Every Family Has One
by CosmicWitchFace
Summary: A new force arrives in Gotham in the form of Lune VaDoma, a witch on the hunt for both magic and the ability to embrace her darker facets. And Oswald Cobblepot certainly has a knack for bringing out the best of the worst in people. Because even with the strongest desire to avoid a scandal, every family has one. Rated M for violence, smut, and more smut! Oswald x OC, slow burn.
1. Ch 1 - Just the Appetizer

**Post published AN: I want to say thank you! This story has hit over 100 views, and has also received its first review! It's from a guest so I'm not able to respond directly, but thank you for reading! I was a little worried, since the first chapter simply introduces the OC and doesn't provide even a single drop of Oz charm. Because I just _know _y'all are after the upcoming chapter 7. (hint: that's where the M rating really comes in handy) But hopefully this means my fears aren't reality. So once again, thank you for reading! **

* * *

Streets filled with constantly shifting vehicles and people, buildings where missing windows were common, a night on the town that could be the last of any individual thinking they'd be safe...

"Gotham, you're a shit hole," Lune muttered, gazing down at the hazy road below her perch. Such a disgusting city. The people were abandoned by the rest of the world, though she doubted anyone really believed it. Seemed like everyone in the city was trying to play pretend – if Gotham kept people out it wouldn't seem so bad that the rest of the world ostracized a city riddled with madness. No one in their right mind would choose a place like that as home. And Gotham wanted to keep it that way.

"On a scale of one to batshit crazy, I'm definitely nearer batshit being here." Nestled with her back against the wide window ledge she picked her hand up to inspect it, wrinkling her nose at the mess on her glove. "Literally and figuratively I guess."

She scraped it against the stonework she was sitting on, wishing the night had been a little less chilly. The ninth floor of any building was bound to be nippy, but it seemed that nature also wished to lend a hand in sullying Gotham's name in her mind. The wind whorled her hair about her face so much she ended up packing all of it into a messy braid. And even though she didn't need it yet, she pulled her face mask up, to keep the bite away from her skin. Another precaution she was double grateful for. The gear she wore for hunting provided extra protection against the elements.

Her stomach growled.

Peering into the window for what seemed like the hundredth time in as many minutes, she huffed out an aggravated breath.

It was dark, same as the sky above, but even the clouds were doing small scuttles across the crescent moon. Nothing stirred in the bedroom to let her know if anyone was home.

"I need this. You'd better be here. Come on you bratty little..." Before she could finish her sentence, a light flicked on. And she was mildly surprised.

For an apartment in a land where cracked walls and peeling paint were all the rage, it was lavishly decorated. The woman inside looked around her surroundings before tossing her jacket onto a plush looking sofa. She seemed to relax, tossing and fluffing her long blonde hair and saying some things Lune couldn't hear before sashaying towards the kitchen.

_Look at her stupid ass, _she thought, pursing her lips and only half admitting to herself that she was checking out her actual ass. _Has no idea what she's got, or what she's about to lose. Damn, I need to work on my glutes. _

Unhooking a half-orb medallion from her belt, she pressed a fingertip to the smooth, dark surface. A faint golden gleam came from deep inside the crystal. The glow intensified and sent pulses of light radiating to illuminate the runes etched into the wooden housing around it. Lune smiled at the sight.

_Finally, _she thought,_ I was beginning to get a little worried I came to this trash heap for no reason._

With a sigh of relief she locked the trinket back onto her belt and stretched out her legs over the edge of the sill. Her abilities had proven to be wrong in the past. And since she had to rely on an antiquated way of tracking targets, she was often led astray.

But curse the many reasons why magic wasn't as advanced as technology. Science could create precise GPS down to the exact pavement stone a person stood on, while she got stuck hoping her ridiculously ancient detection spell wouldn't lead her into a random lake. All because people feared what they couldn't understand.

Deft and silent, she moved into a standing position. Even with the lights shining from inside, she could see her reflection, watch as her magic transformed the gray of her eyes into a magnificently bright magenta. A tug on each of her gloves ensured they were tight, and she double checked her face mask was on properly. No need to get sloppy.

Pressing her hands against the window, she inhaled deeply before allowing the magic to course down to her fingertips.

"Hsinav siht ssalg kciuq dna tnelis!"

The glass disappeared, and with a victorious grin, she jumped down into the apartment to claim her long awaited dinner.

* * *

There were fewer and fewer things that happened out of the ordinary that caused a stir in any bar in Gotham. A struggling woman being towed into The Sirens by three people was pretty average. The fact that she was shouting complete nonsense was definitely different. What got jaws dropping and people crying out in shock was the way she was being detained. One woman was holding her feet, the second had her arms in a tight grip, but the third... The third was struggling to keep her balance, draped across the thrashing female's midsection as she fought to gain higher altitude.

"Ekam em thgil, tel em ylf!" the woman shouted. The third girl shrieked as she was forced to grab onto any part of their captive as she rose a little more in the air.

It was extremely bizarre and generated an immediate smattering of conversations. Why were they doing that? Were they attempting to force her to stop moving? What had she done? Didn't it look like she was floating?

"Everyone out!" came the sharp command from around the bar. "We're closing for a family emergency."

Barbara Kean stepped forward from the shadows, her eyes hooded, brow furrowed. Stools scraped, people struggled to get passed each other while at the same time avoiding the still yelling woman and her human restraints. In just a few moments, the bar had cleared out. No one argued with the proprietor of The Sirens.

"She's...she's crazy! We can't get her to snap out of it! She's been like this for six blocks," the woman holding onto Lune's feet gasped out.

"No idea what she's saying either. What do we do?" the one holding her arms asked.

"Can I get off of her yet? Or is she still trying to _fuckin' fly away?_" the girl across Lune's stomach exclaimed, feet kicking out as she fought to stay on top of her.

Barbara hurried forward, an eager glimmer in her eyes. "This is the find of a lifetime, ladies. Who would have thought..." Lune grew louder as Barbara came closer.

Barbara frowned. "Alright enough, you can shut up now. How childish, letting everyone know you're here like this. Let's talk this out. Woman to woman. Unless you want the entire city to crash down on your head," she added louder over Lune's repeated attempts to get free.

Lune took a few heaving breaths. Suddenly the two women holding her arms and legs groaned; she had become a lot heavier. They dropped her to the ground, with the girl on top letting out an outraged shriek.

Barbara stood over them, watching as her subordinates formed a triangular guard around Lune.

"What the hell was this for?" Lune shouted from the ground. She was trembling. "These dumb fuckin' idiots ruined everything!"

The woman who had been holding her arms pointed a vicious kick at Lune, catching her in the thigh. "She's murdered Monica Vreeland." There was venom in her voice when she spoke. "We had gone to pick her up for the meeting tonight and found this freak doing some kind of spell over her body."

Barbara sighed heavily and let her shoulders drop. Shaking her head, she folded her arms. "So. A witch has finally found her way into Gotham. Please explain why you decided to pick me as your first enemy, and why you chose one of the wealthier benefactors of my bar to enjoy as a snack?"

Lune settled into a sitting position, attempting to bring her labored breathing back to normal. Wiping a hand across her mouth, she was happy to not see blood. But her hands were still shaking with the disturbed magic attempting to settle down inside her.

"Lady, I don't even know who you are," she said, looking back up at her captors. "And snack seems so crass. She was barely a mouthful. That ass was definitely deceiving."

Barbara's lips twitched, but she refrained from smiling. "There's no denying you're a witch then?"

Lune snorted. "As if I could say anything to change your mind after what you just saw. Whole damn city probably knows about me now thanks to your awful timing. But sure, I'm definitely, one hundred percent not a witch."

They stared at one another for a moment. Neither spoke. They simply assessed one another. The three guards each shifted nervously. The tension in the air was palpable.

Barbara was certainly not a woman to trifle with. The beautifully terrifying self appointed queen of Gotham always had method to back her madness.

And then there was Lune. In dark as night kit, from boots to jacket, she was quite stunning. Her hair was in a dark, messy braid that cascaded over one shoulder. The mark of her family heritage, the one shock of pure silver running through both her skin and her hair, told Barbara all she needed to know.

Barbara was impressed, considering she had dabbled in dark magic before. The witch before her could almost give her a run for being both beautiful and intimidating. Almost.

"Ladies, everything is in order now," she said finally. "You may leave us."

The three guards looked uneasy, but didn't make a move question Barbara in any way.

"We'll be just around the corner, if you need us," the one who had given the report said as they passed by.

Barbara flashed her a charming smile.

Silence reigned between them until the click of the side door could be heard.

Lune slowly got to her feet, trying not to show how shaky she felt. The sudden surge of power she had gotten hadn't been allowed to properly settle in her system. She was grateful for the dark interior, it would hide the lack of color in her face.

Barbara gestured towards the bar. "Come on then, let's get you something to drink. Pick your poison."

"Kidnap a girl, treat her like a sack of potatoes, then turn on the charm. You're definitely the kind of crazy I'd expect to find here, but I won't say no to a free drink," Lune said. "Something dark and strong'll do the trick." She walked past the blonde to steady herself against a seat. "A double would probably be nice too."

Barbara kept her eyes on Lune as the woman settled herself on a stool. "Never said it was free. How about some information in return?"

"That'll depend on what you're after. Some things aren't meant to be said out loud."

Barbara chuckled. With a lithe heave, she hoisted herself up onto the bar and slid effortlessly across to land on the other side, and then set about fixing a drink for her guest.

"You mean like all the things you were shouting when my girls brought you in here?" she clucked disapprovingly. "Not too bright yourself, are you? You run around screaming like that and you're bound to get some unwanted attention. Lucky for you I've got a problem that you seem to be the perfect answer to, and so I'm willing to turn a blind eye to the fact that we've been trying actively to keep your kind out of Gotham for a while now."

While she finished speaking, Barbara slid a glass towards Lune. "Plus it may keep you out of trouble and get you what you're after. I'm Barbara, by the way."

"Lune." Taking the glass and downing the contents immediately, she gave a small sigh. "You're lucky _my kind _prefers to have a little sense of decorum when making introductions."

Barbara smiled. "Decorum my ass. Your family can't lie if the other person doesn't when you first meet them. You're not being polite, you're just obligated by stupid rules. Funny, but I always thought that the VaDoma were just a legend." She leaned forward, letting her hand ghost over the other woman's cheek, before gripping her chin tightly. Lune opened her mouth to protest, but Barbara shushed her. "Just a legend. Some stupid bit about magic eaters from a forgotten land. Have you been so reduced to helplessness that you come to a city like this? What could you possibly gain from Gotham? Doesn't matter in the slightest honestly. You won't get anything without my say so."

Barbara chuckled as she released Lune. Pouring the witch another shot, she gently set it before her, all smiles.

Lune scowled as she tenderly touched her chin, but took the offered drink. "Just a legend," she said darkly, tossing the hard liquor back in one go. "That's exactly what my people want. To be settled on the back burner. Quiet, and patient. Much like you have been, _Babs. _Quiet and patient." She stretched. When the guards had taken her by surprise in the late Monica's apartment, all her ligaments had kinked up. It felt good to stretch. Standing up, she placed her hands upon the bar. A flicker of uneasiness danced over Barbara's face at the tone of the woman in front of her. She was secretly glad the bar was between them.

"Oh yes. Right on that back burner we sit," she said softly. "Waiting until we can burn the entire house to the damn _ground. _Because that's our goal isn't it? We want control, but we don't want it unless we can pull it from the ashes. Start over, a world crafted from our personal ideals. People flocking to us for guidance and support. A beacon in hard times, willing to do what they can to help out as long as they're profiting greatly from it. We get what we want because we never stop trying. Now wait a moment. I forget," Lune laughed almost in embarrassment and shook her head. "I can't remember if I was talking about us VaDomas or you, Barbara Kean."

Barbara felt a shiver go down her spine. How did this witch know who she was? A low hum resonated through the glass and wood to rattle bottles against the bar. Lune's fingertips were emanating a vibrant glow that matched her eyes. Dangerous, and defiant. Sparks scorched the wood between them from where the magic was allowed to flow freely.

But Barbara was resilient. "Sounds like we have a lot more in common than I first thought." Her brain raced as she tried to find the perfect angle. "You'd forgive a poor, misinformed city living woman though, wouldn't you? Especially after I tell you what it is you could stand to gain from us working together." Apologetic businesswoman was usually her best act.

Lune stepped back, removing her hands from the wooden bar and crossing her arms. The magic stayed in her eyes, but no longer did it attempt to leap towards Barbara. "Tell me about it already. I'm burning a lot of precious time here. People are probably already starting to look for me."

A perfect trap. "I need someone to go undercover for me actually. There's a brat who thinks he can take this city from under my nose, and I'd rather not let him get away with it."

"Undercover seems good for me in this circumstance that _you've_ put me in. How convenient. You want a mole? A snitch? Assassin? Sorry but none of that is really up my ally."

"I understand that I did this to you," Barbara said earnestly, "And I'm genuinely sorry we couldn't have met under better circumstances. But I do think it'll be good for the both of us. You'll be able to stay hidden in plain sight, and I'll be able to hold the balance of power within the city. If you already know my name, and if you knew who you were going after earlier, then you have to know I'm good for this place."

"Again, I really don't like doing people's dirty work for them."

"Good thing I'm not looking for a killer or snitch then. Trust me, I've got plenty of those," Barbara snapped. Sighing, she folded a bar towel and placed it over the scorch marks. Once again lifting herself onto the bar, this time, she inched forward so she was sitting on it, positioned in front of Lune. She dangled her legs slowly, and tossed her hair. She watched Lune taking her in from heels to smoky eyes. Barbara offered a slow, demure smile. "I need someone a little bit more...intoxicating. A gal who could really get under someone's skin. Invade their thoughts, push them to do things they only fantasized about."

Lune's mouth worked silently for a moment. Then she laughed. "We definitely have more in common than I thought too. So you're not after a paid hand or nark. You want a freaking harlot. What makes you think I'm into that?"

Barbara feigned surprise. "You mean you're not? Well then, I guess I get an F on my homework after all."

"What's that mean?"

Twirling her fingers into her hair, Barbara made sure to smooth it behind her ears before ghosting her own hands down her collar bone. She watched as Lune followed the movement.

"I knew you had snuck into the city the day it happened. What was it, last Tuesday? My eyes and ears are everywhere. And as soon as I knew there was a VaDoma running around, I made it my job to learn everything about you. Why were you in Gotham, what were you after, and what would you be like? I learned it all. Lune VaDoma, boiled down, you're a magic hungry, powerful, seductive force of nature. I'd be a fool to try and cross you. Which is why I'd like to become an ally instead."

Lune wrinkled her nose as if she could smell bat guano all over again. "Don't really think I like being _boiled down. _I'd like to consider myself a little more interesting than that." It also didn't sound like the Gothamite had dug too deep; there was plenty missing from her observation. _C- at best on your research Miss Kean, _she thought.

"So who's the target then?" she asked, keeping her voice light and uninterested, changing the topic.

Barbara shifted her weight to one hip and checked the buttons on her blouse. "You interested?"

"Depends on what we're talking about," Lune said with a grin. She didn't make a move, but she was definitely keeping her eyes on the woman in front of her. She was certainly attractive. In a strange, twisted way.

"His name's Cobblepot. Oswald Cobblepot. And he thinks he's going to be king of Gotham when all he amounts to is little more than a pawn at best."

"Doesn't sound like he'd be of much interest then," Lune said, dropping her arms. She sat herself back on the stool next to Barbara, propping her head up on her hand. "What would he do for me?"

Barbara smiled her winning smile. "I'm pretty sure he's got some ancestral roots deep in the realm of your expertise. His mother's maiden name was Kapelput."

Lune's head slipped from her hand as her mouth immediately watered. _Traveling fortune tellers and good luck sellers. _"You're serious? That type of magic is so remote and so distant...It's incredibly powerful. I mean, to anyone other than the actual wielder. They tend to have pretty shitty luck since it doesn't work on themselves."

"That explains _so _much," Barbara burst out laughing. "There's a load of family drama surrounding them that howls ancient magic. You know the sort. Bad luck, dark clouds. But such a determined bunch. I'll admit, his mother was a good woman. And weirdly enough she only thought the best of her son. Strong tree, sour fruit."

"You think this little lemon inherited some ancient magic from his mother I could feed off of? What makes you so sure?" Lune asked. The job was sounding better and better. Which usually meant it was much too good to be true.

"Oh you have no idea," Barbara said loudly and with feeling. "That boy is a walking collection of bad luck. I can't tell you how many times he's been beaten down, tortured, and all around kicked to shit. And yet somehow he comes back up swinging more violently each time. It'd be endearing if I didn't loath him with every bone in my body."

Lune nodded her head slowly, mulling everything over. "Got it. You want me to move in, keep him preoccupied, while you perform a massive hostile takeover of whatever underground factions there are to this city, and then I can drain him for every ounce of magic he's got tucked away."

"You're smarter than you are subtle," Barbara said, reaching over to tap one finger on the other woman's nose.

Lune was quick to catch her fingertip between her teeth, shocking Barbara with how quick she moved. Applying just a little pressure, she released the digit. "I don't appreciate the condescension. So where's the catch? Am I doing this without any monetary compensation or something?"

Barbara had drawn her hand back. Such a small little thing to send a large jolt of sexual desire through her. This witch would fit the bill nicely.

Before either of them could do or say anything, a voice cried out from the shadows.

"You're seriously going to let her work for you after she murdered Ms. Vreeland?" It was the younger guard from earlier, the one in charge of keeping Lune low to the ground. Lune scowled. Her intestines still felt tangled up around her spine.

Barbara's face also soured as the girl came to a halt in front of them. Shakily, she was holding a gun, and had it pointed at Lune.

"She's a freak! We should've just killed her on sight when she was doing all that hoodoo over Ms. Vreeland's body."

Lune warily watched the gun. Young and trigger happy lackeys were never smart to dismiss.

"Sam," Barbara said in the tone of a world weary mother. "We've been over this. Are you supposed to question me?"

"If it means we can stop innocent women from dying then m-maybe someone should!" Sam said in a voice that belied her fear.

"Innocent?" Lune laughed and pounded the bar heavily with her fist causing Sam to jump. "You said her name was Monica? That woman was a menace to a lot of people back in her younger years. Escaping here after her time as an enchantress and seller of poisons wasn't going to do her any good. A lot of people wanted her dead, and I happened to want her power. Witch Doctors are deliciously evil."

"S-stop it! I don't know what any of that means. You're just a murderer and a witch." Sam's hands tightened on the gun. "Ms. Vreeland was a good woman who just wanted to do the best for the people of this city."

"She _was _one of my highest donating benefactors," Barbara admitted, cocking an eyebrow at Lune.

The witch's mouth dropped open. "_What -_oh come on. A second ago you were telling me I'd be perfect to get a job done for you, and now you're going to let one of your goonies shoot me?"

"That's sort of how it works around here," Barbara said dryly.

"Alright, fine. I won't ask for any money other than what I need to get by."

"Mmhm..." Barbara inspected her nails.

Lune rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. "And I'll toss some secret hoodoo stuff in with being your slutty distraction for this guy."

"I could really use some sort of liquid attraction for the bar, now that you mention it."

"One super addictive alcoholic brew coming right up then," Lune said through gritted teeth.

Barbara blew her a kiss, then turned to Sam. "Lower that thing, kiddo. She's more value to us alive than marinating in a pool of her own blood. Though I've heard witch blood is one hell of a trip."

"Don't get any ideas," Lune snapped.

Sam's jaw dropped, but her hands didn't. "You can't be serious. Barbara, come _on. _She's a witch. A fucking _witch. _And you think we're all going to be fine with her running around?"

"She won't be running around. She'll be too busy making that pretentious idiot of a Penguin drool over her. Honestly, I think you're going to like him," Barbara said, giving Lune a suffering look. "He's a dark minded little sadist."

"Definitely my type."

"I- this is disgusting. This whole plan of yours is stupid! There, I said it! It's stupid and crazy!" Sam exclaimed. Suddenly she was pointing the gun at Barbara. "To think you've stooped so low. I'm- I'm going to end this."

"Of course you are, precious," Barbara cooed.

Sam's look of defiance mingled with confusion turned to horror as a loud snap echoed around them. The gun seemed to leap from her hands to clatter across the floor. A second snap and a split second later Sam's throat was caught in the tight fibers of a dark whip.

"You took way too long to step in," Barbara scolded the woman who stepped out from behind Sam.

"I just wanted to see you squirm a little," Tabitha said, before yanking backwards on her favored weapon. Sam gagged as she landed heavily on her back, her hands flying to her throat.

"This is Tabitha. One of my siren sisters. You'll be working quite closely with us. If you're still interested," Barbara said.

Lune appreciated the look of Tabitha. All leather and attitude. "I'm thinking I've just doubled down on my interest in this job."

Tabitha raised an eyebrow. Another gag from Sam turned her attention to the floor. "What do you want me to do here?"

"Do you even need to ask?" Barbara groaned and stretched backward, lifting her arms towards the ceiling. "I don't like being questioned, and I certainly don't like being called crazy."

Tabitha didn't say a word, but the delight on her face said more than words ever could as she bent over the struggling Sam.

Over the choking and tightening noises of the whip cords, Barbara offered her hand out to the witch seated next to her. "Well then Lune, welcome to the Sirens."

Lune grinned and took the offered hand. Bringing it to her lips, she placed a small kiss on her knuckles as she listened to Sam's death throes. "I do believe the pleasure is going to be all mine."

* * *

**Welcome, welcome! Better late than never to the Gotham party, so thank you for giving this late arrival a chance. This is going to be one hell of a lemon, so tons of appreciation for those of you that stick around to let the fruit ripen. Trust me, I wanted to dive right in to the good stuff, but there needs to be a smidgen of story to let me maintain my denial of writing pure smoot. Any questions, comments, emotional outbursts, send them my way! There are a lot of nods to the DC universe in this story. I wanted to pay homage to many different aspects and could barely cram them all in so it may take time to unravel some bits. Thank you for your time and retinal strain!**

**~CosmicWitchFace**


	2. Ch 2 - The Main Course has Arrived

The mansion was, in accordance to the gritty architecture around it, crumbling and old. But it still had an antiquated charm that spoke to the old soul inside of Lune.

_Weird ass wizards and their love of architecture_, she thought wryly. _Never wizard hunt on an empty stomach I guess. His magic tasted like book glue and furniture polish. And now I like dusty ass mansions apparently. _

She took a deep breath and hitched the bag she was carrying higher on her shoulder, wincing as the strap hit a tender spot. The initiation into the Sirens had most definitely been pleasurable. But her back still had welts that hadn't gone down yet.

_Could have warned me her nails were that long, _she thought. _I guess that's what I get for calling them Babs 'n' Tabs. _

Her siren sisters hadn't been keen on her humor, and they had definitely gotten their payback. Now she was going to her job interview as a janitor for the Cobblepot crime family sore in many, many places. And if she was strip searched...

The thought sent an excited shiver up her spine at the thought of the scandal. Well she had a cover story for that.

They had gone through the proper channels, making sure she was a known fugitive, looking for a place to hide, willing to do trash work in order to stay alive. The back story was simple – she was a witch with bad luck who had come to start over in a new city but was discovered before she could begin to pose as a normal human. The murder of Monica Vreeland had been carefully disguised as a turf war casualty. Easy enough considering Lune hadn't touched a hair on her head. No one would be able to look at the body and see missing magic, so faking the cause of death was simple enough.

The city now mourned the loss of a great woman. Known for her many missions around the world to spread good will and charity. Though Lune did find it wickedly delightful that such a woman had abandoned her only child, leaving the little girl in the care of her ex-husband. No one knew why, but their pious Monica wanted nothing to do with motherhood. And that was no doubt due to her inability as a Witch Doctor to feel deep affection for anything other than her own arts. It was enough to make Lune excited all over again at the magic she had captured from such a heart.

Shaking her head to focus the thoughts rattling around in her brain, she checked her watch. She had been told to be at the main gate by noon. Tabitha had pulled some strings with an unnamed acquaintance she had working with Cobblepot, and he had agreed to get her a meeting with Oswald. The claim was that having Lune around meant they'd have the excuse to see each other.

_Young love. Blech, _Lune thought, thinking of the uncharacteristically chipper smile on Tabitha's face. Barbara hadn't been around for that part, and Lune felt it prudent to store that bit of information for later if she needed it.

It was three minutes past, and there was no movement from the front of the mansion. Her feet danced a fidget as she checked her surroundings and re-ran everything over in her mind.

Barbara had decided to take the easy route – Lune was going to fess up to being caught by the Sirens first. There was going to be no sense in hiding it when anyone could have seen her being dragged into the bar. But she was going to tell this Cobblepot guy that she wasn't looking to be anyone's gopher or potion maker, which is what the ladies had wanted of her. She just wanted a roof to live under and practice her craft in private. When the Sirens were told no, they had attempted to eradicate her, and she ended up fleeing. The Sirens then put out the word that a witch was in Gotham who was rightfully theirs, and that anyone foolish enough to house her would die.

Of course, they were hoping this would provoke Oswald in proper reverse psychological fashion. If the Sirens wanted the witch, and he had her, then they were at the disadvantage.

Less convoluted than many schemes she had been a part of in the past, but Lune was willing to keep things simple this time around.

_Fuck some people, make some magic, try not to get killed. Still better than being a simpering hearth witch back home, _she thought as she checked her watch again.

There had been more than enough time for anyone to check to see if she had been followed. Which of course she wasn't, because that wasn't the name of this game. Was she supposed to do anything special? There wasn't a buzzer or a knocker. And it wasn't like she had a newspaper with a 'help wanted' ad in it to brandish.

"Can I help you?"

She tried not to jump, but the voice that came softly from her left did startle her. No one had been there before, but now a pale, hairless man stood before her, watching her. Clad in black from head to toe, he simply stared at her with wide, steady eyes.

"I was hoping it'd be the other way around actually," she said with a laugh. He didn't move, or say a word. "I uh, I heard, from someone, who heard from someone else, who probably heard it from- eh you get it, I heard that the Cobblepot fam was looking to take on some extra hands. And I'm kind of desperate. And was told to be here for an interview at noon. In my defense I was here early. I just didn't really want to barge in. Do you think I have a chance?" She attempted to sound anxious. _I sound like I have mouth diarrhea. _

He rolled his shoulders, his eyes never leaving hers. "Guess that depends on whether or not you're actually here to perform service to the Cobblepot family." His voice was concise. His eyes unnerved her. A human honed to cause unhinged anxiety in those around him.

But Lune was down for anything if it meant getting close to this Oswald. Making it seem as if she missed his point, she made a quick gesture from her boots to her permanently borrowed tie. "Look I know I don't have much to work with but these are my best clothes. Well, they were someone's best clothes and now they're mine. I can be respectable given the chance. My name's Lune, and I'm here to ask for a job."

He tilted his head, and she swore he was appraising each word that came out of her mouth. Finally he spoke. "Well then let's head up to the house, we don't want to be late."

_We already are, _she thought sullenly as they walked through the gate.

Up close the place was much more of a let down than from afar.

The inside was lavish in an old fashioned way. A _very _old fashioned way. Everything was semi-coated in a film of dust. She was definitely going to have to actually become a janitor. She stifled a groan.

_Think of the magic, think of the sexy, sexy magic - oh fuck was that a centipede? _She felt goosebumps raise on her skin. Anything with more than eight legs had her fear and respect. Mostly her fear.

"Inside," the man motioned her towards one of the side rooms. "The boss'll be with you shortly."

She offered a small smile, though it melted right off her face the instant she was through the door. It was an office, full of massive bookshelves and a large ornate desk.

_This guy must be loaded. What a plus. Magic and money. A proper girl's dream._

Dropping her bag onto one of the high backed armchairs, she gazed around the ceiling. They were tall, and full of cobwebs. But that wasn't what interested her. The entire place seemed to buzz with something she couldn't put her finger on. Whether or not it was magical in origin would definitely be worth investigating.

Raised voices disturbed her thoughts. Silently she moved towards the door in order to listen better.

"How many people know we're looking for help right now boss?" The first voice was borderline whining, albeit in a low baritone. Almost like a man child. "It's not like I put an ad in the paper-"

"You think you're in the clear, _don't you?_" Her heart gave an excited thump. Harsh and sharp, the second voice was a tenor with power."I shouldn't have to tell you that inviting someone in who claims they're here for a job makes you just as useless as everyone else around me these days."

"Sorry boss-"

"Of course you are."

They drew closer to the room she was in. Lune quickly settled herself into one of the chairs, attempting to regulate her breathing.

"Knock knock my dear," the tenor called out. Something knocked against the door frame twice. When she stood and rounded the chair, she bet it had been the cane wielded by the shorter of the two men.

But that held her eyes for only an instant.

The taller of the two was nothing but muscle. The lackey. His face was too adorable for her to take him seriously, though she didn't underestimate the way he was built. Like a tank.

What drew her attention was the shorter man. The lean and lanky frame supported by an ornate cane, he exuded a quiet, murderous aura. His eyes were as frigid as his demeanor as he briskly hobbled to the desk. Latching the cane to a hook on the side, he propped his lower half against the old wood frame, folding his arms across his chest to look at her.

This man was positively brimming with cold fury on a brittle leash.

_What a snack, _she thought excitedly. _What an absolute treasure chest of treats._

This had to be Oswald. She had expected someone with such supposed magic to unseat her a bit, and he had. Snapping herself out of it, she offered a smile and polite little flourish. "Hi, I'm Lune. Heard there was a well established family o' crime looking for some help."

He was giving her an incredulous look. It made his sharp features more pronounced. "Well that's interesting. Very interesting actually considering we weren't putting the word out there too loudly." He shifted his weight to what she assumed was the better of his two legs. She was curious about so much of him already.

"Yeah, I'm kind of lucky I heard the whispers at all. Helped me out of a tough spot. I was hoping to get some work somewhere safe." She kept her act simple, almost rambling in her effort to come across as harmless.

"Lune, you said your name was?"

"Like the bird?" a voice piped up from behind them. She realized the other man was still in the room.

Swiveling in her chair, she graced him with a glare.

"You think that's funny?"

He looked genuinely confused.

"Oh sorry, I didn't realize you were stupid." She turned back around in the chair with a roll of her eyes. The man she presumed was Oswald was smiling thinly.

"What?" the man said. "There's a bird. It's a bird."

"You'll have to forgive Butch," the man before her said in a softer, kinder tone than the one she had heard in the hall. "He tends to be a little simple in the head. Lune sounds much like a ravishing name for a woman born under the light of the stars. A messenger of the moon, if you will."

"Implying something?" she asked innocently.

"Indeed," he said with a coy smile. "A witch waltzes into my house wanting to work for honest wages? Rather suspicious. What is she after? Protection perhaps?"

She put a shocked look on her face as if she hadn't already deduced who she was talking to. "_You're_ Oswald Cobblepot?"

Oswald stared down his hooked nose at her, attempting to figure out if she had meant it insultingly or otherwise.

"I am."

She offered a disarming smile. "Then I'm charmed. I've heard a lot about you in the week I've been here. Didn't realize you'd be cute from all the gossip."

"People tend to brush aside the _obvious_ observations, I suppose," he said with a sigh. She was delighted to see him preen a bit. Meant he was susceptible to flattery.

And it wasn't' necessarily a lie. His plain white dress shirt was pushed up to reveal rigid looking forearms. His hands were large, when he offered her a smile his teeth looked sharp. All things she enjoyed in a person.

_Hoo boy, stop putting pleasure before work, _she thought, biting her lip.

Forgetting the tangent they had been on, she realized how that small gesture must have looked on the outside of her thoughts when he made a little cough and his pale cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink.

"Butch, could you go get us something to drink?"

"But, what about...?" The henchmen objected.

"Did I stutter?" Oswald asked softly. His head tilted as he asked the question, the irritated tick belying the calmness of his tone. Lune felt another excited thump of her heart. This man was shaping up to be dangerous fun.

"N-no boss."

Lune heard the door close as the third wheel left the room. She reigned in her emotions, breathing deeply.

"So, Lune," his tone was back to being cordial. "Tell me what's going on here. And do be honest. I expect nothing less of those I work with."

"Honesty among thieves, am I right?" she laughed.

"Something like that," he said with pursed lips.

He probably didn't appreciate being called a thief. She pressed forward. "You've probably heard the stories. You already guessed who I am. The witch. Everyone's new, fun, favorite play thing." She waved her hands in the air, rolling her eyes again. "I wanted to come to Gotham to gain some personal freedom. Instead I was abducted. Pressured into becoming a gopher for these weird ass ladies-"

"They wouldn't happen to be the Sirens?" The look on his face was back, like he'd taken a sip of vinegar.

"Oof, yeah, that was them," she groaned, sinking in the chair. Wincing, she sat back up quickly, forgetting about the marks on her back.

"Did they...hurt you?" There was morbid curiosity in his voice.

_He's definitely a little bit of a freak, _she thought, her blood singing. The job was becoming more interesting the longer she was in his presence.

"You could say that," she said carefully.

"Why?"

"I didn't exactly want to be on the bottom of the food chain. And that's where they wanted to put me. They had me crafting enchanted beers, stuff like that."

"Alright, and being a janitor puts you somehow at the top? Forgive my disbelief, but why on earth would you make such a decision?"

Time to spring the trap. "Oh, that's wickedly easy. I'm kind of petty. And they were going on and _on _about this faux king, how they hated him, wanted to bring him down. Called him the Penguin?"

She watched from the corner of her eye as his gaze grew steadily darker with rage.

Waving a hand like she was recalling all the details, she continued. "I found out he worked for the Cobblepots, and decided that I'd love to get under their skin by offering my services to him instead. Which definitely pissed them right off. Honestly I'm lucky to have gotten this far. Loads of people will kill a bitch if paid the right amount of money."

That part was true. In order to make the hit believable, Barbara had paid quite a few people to tail her from the bar to the mansion. One of them got a little over zealous. She had his pocket money in her wallet.

Oswald was definitely taking the news the right way. His breath came in short bursts from his nose, as if he was trying hard to keep himself contained.

"Well today must be your lucky day Miss Lune," he said through gritted teeth. "I _am _Penguin. As much as it pains me to admit to such a moniker."

"I didn't even put them together!" she exclaimed, sitting upright with a clap of her hands. "Kind of a kinky nickname if you ask me. A gal could think tons of things about a name like that."

"_What?_" His breath huffed out in one go. She had taken him by surprise.

They were saved by the door opening again, Butch walking in balancing a tray in one hand while he closed the door with the other. The silence aside from the rattling bottle and glasses on the tray annoyed Lune. She hadn't wanted to give up her alone time with Oswald so quickly.

"I asked Cici what your go to drink was these days and she said you prefer grapefruit juice with your champagne." The giant of a man seemed so into getting the drink tray delivered safely on the desk he hadn't noticed the murderous glint in Oswald's eyes.

"Thank you Butch," Oswald said curtly. "I'll be sure to thank Cici for restocking our supply. Better yet, why don't you tell her for me?"

Butch halted in pouring the drinks. Glancing between the two of them, he set down the decanter of refreshing looking, sparkling pink bubbly.

"You sure boss?"

"Quite sure, Butch. Thank you." The impatience in Oswald's voice was prominent, but still the man seemed not to notice.

"Well alright. As long as you don't mind being here with...you know, her." The glance he shot Lune was all mistrust and suspicion.

"I'm confident I can handle myself." Oswald gestured to the drinks on the desk, to which she gratefully nodded. He picked up both the glasses, handing her one before clinking them together with a little smirk.

_Oof, maybe Butch should stick around so I don't do something impulsive, _she thought, taking a sip of the deliciously tart beverage.

Butch seemed to catch the tension between them. He stuttered something that didn't sound like words, before Oswald motioned for him to vacate the room.

Lune held his gaze, sipping at her cocktail as they both listened for the door to close once again.

"I want this job," she said once they were alone again.

"Why?" he asked simply.

She shrugged and took another enjoyable gulp of her drink. How could she tell him he had latent magic she wanted to oh so slowly take from his body? "There's a few reasons."

"Care to share, or shall I guess?"

She gave him what she hoped was a coquettish look over the rim of her glass. "I do like guessing games."

"Fine." He set his own glass back down on the tray. She noted he hadn't taken more than a mouthful of it. Gazing down at the lack of liquid in hers, she cursed herself for having poor impulse control.

A shadow fell over her lap. Looking up, she met his bright blue eyes, which stared down intently upon her.

"You want this job for security. Being a magic user in a city that hasn't quite grasped the concept can be dangerous, and you obviously know you'd be given some amount of protection."

"Sounds like you have me pegged, Mr. Cobblepot," she said, keeping her voice respectful. "But I'm not just after a place to stay."

"But you admit to wanting protection."

"I like to think I can handle myself, but it doesn't hurt to have friends who can help."

"There's more to it." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. He wanted more information, and she wasn't sure how much more she wanted to give him.

"There may be something else-"

The crystal glass fell from her hand to land with a heavy thud against the carpet. His hands now gripped her wrists so tight her fingertips immediately went cold. He had moved so fast she wasn't sure she had seen it happen. He bent in, leaning over her so that her back was pressed into the back of the chair.

She could smell the sharpness of the champagne and grapefruit on his breath, mingled with a mellow undertone of some sort of fabric softener from his clothes. She didn't often like to be that close to people she hardly knew, but Oswald was going to be a wonderful exception.

"Tell me why you're here," he said, his voice just a hair above threatening.

There was the distrust she had been warned against. Everyone was, in fact, out to get him, so it only made sense that he wouldn't take her at her word so quickly.

"If you think I'm afraid of a little pain, you're gonna have to rework this angle, Mr. Cobblepot," she said with a grin. His hands were searingly cold against her skin. Which only added to the excitement. "I told you, I want a job. And I want one in your house."

"But _why_? You haven't told me _why_," he hissed, his grip tightening even further.

"I'm a witch! I need to be somewhere I can safely practice and won't get abused. Barbara was only interested in keeping me around if I'd make her bar a success and give her all kinds of things in return. I was hoping you'd be a little different."

"Your hope has been severely misplaced I'm afraid. I don't have room in my empire for anyone who doesn't wish to be made useful. But that point aside, you're not telling me everything. And as I said before, I only desire complete honesty from my cohorts."

He had slowly gotten her wrists in a position that disabled her arms. Attempting to move, or counter maneuver would land her many snapped tendons. Up close, she could feel the same tension she had felt earlier. What she thought was coming from the building had in fact been emanating from him.

Oswald Cobblepot was a powder keg of energy.

And she was being turned into a lit match.

Barbara had been accurate in thinking Lune would enjoy Oswald's company, but for all the wrong reasons.

If Oswald was a sadist, then she was a masochist.

Lune felt the surge of her magic before she could stop it.

"Esaeler em!"

He was knocked back by the force of her spell, his feet leaving the ground, back crashing against the desk. Before he could finish wincing in pain, she was before him, using her body as a blockade to stop him from moving. The stunned look on his face was icing on the cake.

"You want to know why I'm here?" she asked, in a voice that embodied midnight. Fingertips crackling with power traced their way up his abdomen to dance across his collarbone, before her fists closed over his shirt folds.

_Keep it together, idiot! _She fought against her desire to tell him everything, just to get it over with. She wanted his magic. She wanted to take it, to drain it from his begging body. It was just there, dormant, unused. She wanted every last drop, but it was going to take time. She had to steady herself.

"You want to know why I'm here," she repeated as a mantra to get herself back in control. The magic faded from her grasp, though she kept herself poised and stationed against him.

Mutely he was nodding, although now there was something a little brighter in his eyes than just shock.

_No way, he's actually into this? _But the evidence was there, in his eyes, and also in every inch of his body language. Pressed up against her from breast to thigh, there was no way for his slender form to hide the physical attraction happening between them.

If that was the case, she could let go of her restraint, just a little bit. First impressions and all that.

"Fine. This is why I'm here."

The tiny gasp that came from his mouth as she covered it with her own sent pleasurable tingles zipping along her skin. His body twitched against hers, his hands flying up to grip her arms. Not to push her away, but in a feeble, frantic attempt to figure out what she was doing. As if he had never been kissed a day in his life.

With a little growl in her throat, Lune kissed him as fiercely as she was able, his thin lips her prisoner and property in that instant. Her tongue found his teeth, ran the edge of them, elicited tiny noises from his throat. He was hardly putting up a fight; his body had already succumbed to the sexual tension between them. She could feel that much against her thighs. It was intoxicating. But she only allowed it to last for a few seconds. A few, delicious seconds.

When she broke away from him, removing all physical contact as she backed away, he stayed slumped against the desk, panting heavily for breath. His pale face was flushed, his eyes had gone turbulent with desire. She noted with personal satisfaction that those misleadingly thin arms were trembling. A rather obvious bulge outlined by his trim slacks caused her to laugh breathlessly.

"I'm not your average good witch, Mr. Cobblepot. I don't play nice with most people, and I like getting what I want. And what I want is to be allowed some creative freedom. I've got a whole tragic backstory just dying to be introduced to your ears, but for now I think what you want to hear is that I need you. Not Barbara Kean, not the GCPD. I could have chosen to give my talents to anyone in this city, but you're the one that tickled my fancy. Birds of a feather, and all that."

His chest still heaving, he caught his grip on the side of the desk and positioned himself a little further upright. She watched as a shaking hand made its way to press against his thoroughly ravished mouth. Those hands that had gripped her in a way that had stirred the coals of her desire.

_There is so much perfect badness we could do together, _she thought, her heart racing. _Those Sirens have nothing on this guy. Keep your whips and nails, ladies. Pretty sure I've just caught the avian flu. _

"Let me stay here under the pretense of working for you," she said after she had caught her breath. "You get to keep me under your thumb, which will definitely piss little Babs 'n' Tabs off, and I get to be exactly the sort of person I want to be."

Oswald cleared his throat. "W-what sort of person is that?" he asked. He had fought to keep the tremor from his voice, but failed.

Lune grinned. She was the trap, and he had pitched himself head first into her clutches. "A useful one."

* * *

**Welcome back! I wanted to post the second chapter right away, to prove that it was in fact going to be a pairing between the OC and Oswald. So thanks again for coming back. Can you blame a witch for wanting to experience the finest Gotham has to offer? I hope not. As it will always be, feel free to send me your comments, questions, or emotional outbursts!**

**~CosmicWitchFace**


	3. Ch 3 - Birds that Hunt Prey Together

**AN: Rated M for sexual content and violence. Moving forward**** there will definitely be themes of violence, sex, and overall villainous behavior.**

* * *

It took a little bit of time, and many more resources than Oswald had wanted to utilize, but he discovered that Lune was telling the truth about everything. The Sirens _had _wanted to use her. There were multiple hits out on her.

He stared at the documents on the desk, detailing all the people hunting for the witch currently staying in his mansion, then turned to look out the window with a heavy sigh. It was a relatively mild evening. It had rained steadily for a few days, but the clouds had broken to allow red sunlight to filter through the heavy sheers. It was going to be a calm night. Exactly what he needed.

The past few days had been a storm. A storm with strange powers, wild eyes, and a rather enticing figure. Oswald fought against remembering the previous day's introduction. He hadn't bothered to ask how she could make herself useful. She had stated her case plainly.

_Though I suppose that...kiss was anything but plain, _he thought, his skin tingling at the memory of having her pressed up against him so tightly. With a groan, he realized his body had remembered it to spite him. She had been so forceful. Her breasts had practically been crushed upon his chest she had been so close. He was used to being pushed around, but not like that. He shuddered. It was refreshing in a way. But desire had never been one to rule his mind. So he wasn't certain if he liked it or not.

The entire situation had thrown him for a loop. Luckily they had been interrupted once more by the ever plodding Butch. Oswald had been grateful for the intrusion; it allowed him to collect his thoughts. He had issued orders to have Lune taken to a room, provided basic amenities, but otherwise kept under guard with the promise he would sleep on her request.

And sleep on it he had not. There hadn't been time. He was too busy looking into what exactly he was dealing with. It royally infuriated him that Barbara Kean may have known more about the situation than he did, so he was eager to even the playing field. And there were so many legalities for him to consider. Oswald had spent the entire night reading up on Lune VaDoma.

A witch under his roof would bring the GCPD down on him. From what he had discovered, _homo magi _and like species weren't necessarily something anyone wanted to have dealings with in a city where outrageous and outlandish were two headlining adjectives to describe the place. A magic user would only complicate matters.

Especially if she was able to uproot his very thoughts with her presence. Which she could, very easily. What was he supposed to do?

Just that morning he had been ready to kick her out. On the cusp of securing his rightful place as king of Gotham there was no way he was going to let a single individual muddle things up.

Then he discovered Barbara was positively foaming at the mouth over the fact that Oswald had Lune in his care. Butch had heard through a number of sources that the Sirens bar had remained closed that night. They were sulking. And nothing got to Barbara Kean like that.

Oswald had hired her immediately.

* * *

Lune stretched out on the massive bed, gazing around the room she was in. Everything in the old mansion was highly dated. The bulbs were housed in sconces, the drapes were velvet, the sheers hardly let any light from the glorious sunset through. The bed she was lying on, though impossibly huge, was full of decorative pillows that were probably older than the crystal attached to her hip.

_Practically decrepit, _she thought, batting at one of the tassels. She was restless. After her interview the previous afternoon, which she felt went well all things considered, she was ushered into her current prison and kept under close watch. And even though it took less than a day for Oswald to firmly lodge himself in the web she had woven, it was enough to irritate her out of boredom.

Once hired, Lune had been shown around the mansion and was introduced to a few people. Zsasz ended up being the name of the first man she had met. And to her embarrassment, it turned out Tabitha's secret crush was Butch. Abashed, she had acted a little kinder towards him as he escorted her to her room. He still seemed to be the one who most distrusted her. It seemed as though he was quite close with Oswald.

_Can't blame him, _she thought with a small twinge of regret. _Suppose I am trying to be the man's downfall. _

After that she had been told to await further orders from her room, and she had been there ever since. It was driving her to madness.

A knock at the door had her leaping up to open it.

"Let's get a proper look at you then," the woman who entered said. She was middle aged, hard looking, with a matronly air. Red hair turned to silver in a messy bun on her head. Lune was startled to see she only had one normal eye; the left one was a pure white orb.

_Don't laugh, _Lune thought. Then she noticed the tray in the woman's hand, and all jokes flew out the window.

"Did- did you bring me food?" she asked, her stomach gurgling. She hadn't eaten since that morning, and it had been the last of the food she had brought with her. One whopping protein bar that had done nothing to quell her hunger.

"Course I did. No one is going to starve while I've got any say in it. I'm Cici." She handed the tray over, watching as Lune snatched it and sat back on the bed to tuck into the heavy sandwich with an appetite.

"I see that you're in plenty good health," Cici said dryly. "Here's to hoping you like loads of meat and carbs. We don't get a lot in the way of fresh produce out this way these days."

Lune swallowed and attempted to cover her mouth so as not to spray crumbs at her savior. "I'll eat anything that stays in my mouth long enough. Also I've never thought to put pickles on tuna, so you're a goddamn genius."

"You can thank Mr. Cobblepot for that. He has...acquired tastes." Cici wrinkled her nose.

Lune took another bite of the savory sandwich."I was wondering about that. Grapefruit juice and champagne?"

"I tend not to ask questions I don't want to know the answer to," Cici said with a huff. "Which is a fine way to stay alive around here if you ask me."

"You uh, don't mind working for a crime syndicate then?" Lune asked, wiping her mouth with the extremely fancy napkin that had been on the plate. No produce, but fine linens and lavish trappings everywhere. _What taste do these people have, exactly? _

"I owe Mr. Cobblepot. He's given me a life to live. Seems fair to dedicate it to making sure he stays out of trouble. Best I can, at least."

"Gotcha. Doesn't seem like Gotham has much in the way of kindness running around."

"I wouldn't say so. It's probably for the best you ended up here. I've heard you magical folk cause more trouble than you're worth. Luckily Mr. Cobblepot tends to enjoy chaos."

"Yeah, I can see that. Ever see someone get offed?"

Cici snorted at the blunt statement. "Wouldn't be the help if I hadn't. Plenty of times people come looking for trouble, wanting to cut a deal, sell someone out, you know the sorts. Mr. Cobblepot is very choosy about who he places within his circles. And even choosier about who he lets leave alive when they've crossed him."

Lune made a noise of appreciation. _All that tucked away inside that messy haired head of his. Barbara was probably hoping he'd end up killing me or subduing me somehow so that I couldn't become a threat. What a bitch. _

She wasn't too sure what Barbara's intentions had been. Only that her own were changing drastically the longer she was in the same building as Oswald. The magic she felt from him was so powerful it caused all sorts of aches inside of her.

"That being said." Cici's voice broke her out of her thoughts. The older woman was staring at her, hands on her hips. "You'd do yourself a favor if you kept the magic to a minimum and the dusting to a maximum."

"Stay out of trouble and don't draw attention to myself," Lune said, ticking the items off on her fingers. "Check and double check."

Cici gave her a small smile, which somehow still managed to look intimidating. "Beautiful and smart. I sure hope you're here to do more than just tidy bookshelves."

"I can also, reluctantly, use a vacuum. But I don't do windows," Lune said matter of factly.

Cici laughed. "I hope you stick around. It'd be nice to have another female in the house."

"Not many of those, huh? Sausage is fine for breakfast but you've gotta have pancakes to make it a well rounded meal."

Cici snorted, attempting to stifle a laugh. "Now don't be telling on me, but I have a theory that Oswald doesn't much trust the opposite sex. That or he has no idea what to do with them."

"Column A, column B probably," Lune chuckled. _I'll have to fix that. I'll have to fix that real good._

Cici collected her tray. "Well, you should probably hunker down for the night. I heard it'll be a busy night for Mr. Cobblepot, which typically means one thing."

"Ooh, so he's into ladies of the night then?" Lune joked.

But Cici didn't smile.

_Ah. The _other_ kind of busy._

"Just kidding, he seems like a perfectly respectable and prim young man," she said hastily.

The caretaker headed for the door. "Just stay. In your room and out of trouble."

Lune saluted. "Night Cici, good to meet you."

With a click of the door, Lune was left alone again.

"Just what I need, more time with myself," she grumbled, kicking her legs out. "I'm ready to break up with me at this point."

It wasn't that she wanted to disobey orders from the newly discovered and enjoyable Cici, but she was slowly losing her mind being unable to do anything but stare at her surroundings. And she certainly didn't want to do anything pleasurable for fear of being barged in on by the wrong people.

Though the idea was exciting, she decided it had to be with Cobblepot or no one. Perhaps she could find him and convince him to get to know the opposite sex a little.

And so it wasn't too long before she was going against Cici's wishes to stay put. It ended up becoming unbearably hot and bothered in her room.

For an impressively large mansion, it was too quiet. There weren't any indications that there may have been other people residing there. Her room was on the first floor. There was probably some sort of tactical advantage, but she had no clue what it was.

The lights in the hall were all dimmed, casting a warm orange glow across the dark carpet and causing her shadow to dance against the walls and high ceiling.

Her ears pricked at the sudden sound of noise. Music, coming from above her on the second floor. It sounded much like a powerful aria.

And muffled screaming.

Excitement bubbled in her chest. What was going on?

Up the staircase it grew louder, and she hesitated. She could hear someone walking around to the left, just out of sight. If she went up any more steps, they'd be able to see her. Flattening herself against the wall, she waited until she could no longer hear footsteps or breathing.

Up a few steps let her peep through the railing. There was indeed a person, but they were now moving away from her.

Her eyes darted to a cracked door that had light spilling out into the darkened hallway. The music was coming from inside, as were voices.

The figure turned a corner and vanished. Taking her chance she moved quickly to the open door. She wasn't sure why she was sneaking around but it seemed appropriate. And all too exciting. The voices were now distinguishable.

"-repeatedly having to go over this takes up a lot of time I don't have." The first was Oswald. His tone was pitched high in outrage. It grated against the majestic vocals of the female singer. Lune was starting to get thrills any time he spoke.

The second voice didn't sound familiar to her, but there were short gasps of air mingled with what sounded like crying. "But I've already told you, there's no way to get close to Barbara without it seeming like I'm – _ghhhhgh!_"

Lune jumped slightly at the muffled screech of pain that came from inside. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she crept closer and put her eye to the crack.

Oswald was standing over a young man who was sprawled against the ornate carpeting. From the angle he was lying in, and the way his hands were to his mouth, it looked as though Oswald had just landed a massive blow to his mouth with the cane he had in hand.

Unlike when he had been interrogating Lune, Oswald didn't look charmingly in control. It looked as if the situation had fallen from his hands and shattered. He was breathing heavily, his hair was further disheveled than usual, and there was a quake that seemed to run through his body as she watched, entranced.

"I seem to only be getting excuses out of you tonight. You can't get close to her or she'll find can't even tell me what's happened to my resupply trucks because you can't gain access to the proper channels. How are we supposed to get anything done if 'you can't'?" He delivered a swift kick to the man's right leg to punctuate the last few words.

The man cried out but attempted to inhale quickly. He clutched at the leg, sobbing. Blood had begun to slowly course down his mouth and drip from his chin. "S-sorry, sir. I won't make any more excuses. I'll g-get you what you need to know."

Oswald let out a hissing noise and moved to the fireplace behind them. Lune had been so preoccupied taking in his features that she hadn't noticed the lit, crackling fire. Even the music had vanished from her head, though it had still been playing.

There was a rack with a few different looking implements next to the hearth. Oswald tapped each of them with his long fingers before selecting a particularly barbed one. "You're telling me what I _want _to hear, but something tells me it's not what you're able to accomplish. So let's set the record straight."

The aria reached a high note that caused Lune to wriggled slightly. The whole scene seemed positively surreal. It was one she shouldn't have been enjoying, and yet she was.

"Now here's a question for you," a deep murmur came from beside her ear. "What's bipedal, misplaced, and in _very _big trouble?"

A sharp sudden pressure was applied just above her tailbone. Whoever had gotten the jump on her was menacing her with a weapon.

"Hey-" she managed, slightly turning, but a hand forced her head back around.

"Naughty of you to spy, but maybe we'll finally get to join in the fun. In you go, nice and easy."

She was pushed forward, automatically opening the door so she didn't barrel into it.

"Sorry for the interruption, but I found this outside your doorstep."

Oswald swiveled at the creak of the door. "Ed? What did you - Oh." His gaze took in everything in a swift second and his face twisted.

The man behind her moved into her view, and she realized it had been a gun pressed against her back. She didn't particularly enjoy guns, they were too impersonal. But it still unnerved her that this newcomer had gotten the best of her.

He was smiling, the lines of his face etched deep. "Thought you might want to know she was snooping around."

Oswald looked impatient rather than angry. "Yes, yes thank you Ed. Miss Lune, I thought you were told to remain in your quarters until further notice?"

She shrugged. "Only so many times I can count the number of water spots on the ceiling. There are seven. I checked about twelve times."

"Be that as it may, it was a direct order. I don't like it when my orders are disobeyed. You can ask Tony here if you don't believe me." He gestured to the man between them.

"Hiya Tony," she said, waving at the whimpering man. "He doesn't like it when people don't listen to him, huh?"

Tony shook his head violently. "N-no ma'am."

"Good to know. I'll have to be on my best behavior and make sure I listen closely to _any _orders given in the future." She winked at Oswald.

His grip tightened on the barbed implement. The stance he had was borderline defensive. Lune was on the prowl, and it seemed as if he could tell.

"Would you like me to escort her back to her room?" Ed asked, his brow knitting. The way he motioned towards her with the gun told Lune he had a hunch regarding her intentions as well. And that he wasn't a fan.

But Oswald shook his head. "No, no. If she's looking for entertainment, she'll get it."

_Hell yes I am._

Ed looked disappointed. "But she's obviously-"

"Obviously bored. As am I, Edward," Oswald said. "I'd like to let Tony get back to work. And you've done a marvelous job with proving your theory correct." He gazed pointedly at Lune.

"What? What theory?" Lune asked hotly. "Sounds like you expected me to be here."

"I did," Ed said with an eye roll. "And I was right. As I usually am."

"Good night, Ed." Oswald's voice was sharp.

Mutely, Ed took his leave, tossing Lune one final, dark look on his way out the door.

"Who's that?" she asked.

"A dear friend of mine," he said tensely.

"Just a friend? Should I be jealous?"

He gave her a strange look, a mix of frustration and confusion. "Why on earth would you have to be jealous?"

A tiny noise came from the ground. They both looked down to Tony, who looked positively petrified.

"Did you just... _laugh_?" Lune asked, astonished.

The man vigorously shook his head. Then, after a glance at Oswald who was still gripping the barbed brand, visibly sagged. "I-I didn't mean it. It's just...I agreed because there's no way anyone would... that is... what you said...and I t-thought it was funny. I'm sorry."

"Oh you're gonna be."

Lune's eyes flashed. Holding her hands out in front of her, she made a strangling motion. "Esaec gnihtaerb!"

Tony's chest heaved suddenly. His hands flew to his throat as he started to wheeze. She clenched her hands tighter. The man struggled under her power, all the air gone from his lungs.

"I'd like you to remember a few things Tony. I don't like being laughed at, and you're not in control here. I am. Understand?"

He managed to nod, his legs beginning to twitch.

"Y-you can release him Miss Lune," a hoarse voice whispered.

Snapping out of her rage induced spell, Lune released Tony and inhaled deeply as the man on the ground gasped in large amounts of air. She looked up at Oswald, expecting him to be furious.

He had dropped the barbed implement he had been holding, and his mouth was open. But there was something on his face other than rage that she recognized right away. Something near and dear to most of her internal organs.

Lust.

"Sorry Mr. C, guess I just got carried away," she said, stepping away from the gasping fish of a man and taking a demure position. In truth, all she wanted to do was cover the distance between them and have a repeat of the previous day.

Shaking his head as if to bring himself back to his senses, Oswald took his cane from the rack near the hearth. He skirted the two of them, choosing to sit on the couch below the window in the corner of the room. Adding distance between them. "Apologize later. Tony, get out. And if I don't hear from you by tomorrow afternoon, don't bother coming back."

The man scrambled to his feet and bolted for the door. It slammed shut nearly catching his heels on the way out.

Lune's face was hot. She wasn't sure if it was the fire, or the sudden burst of power, but she was overheating. And even though she wasn't completely certain, she had a few ideas as to why Oswald was putting distance between them.

_A girl can hope, at least, _she thought, glancing at the man now nestled safely in the partial shadows.

"Make yourself comfortable so we can talk," Oswald said when they were alone. His voice still sounded shaken.

The only other chair in the room was near the record player, which had ground to a halt during Lune's outburst.

She walked over and set the needle back at the beginning. But she didn't sit down. As the music began to play, she made a quick and possibly rash decision.

A moment later, she was in his lap. Her knees pressed tight to his sides, while her hands settled on his cheeks. Even after his own outburst, he was chilly to the touch. It did her own body good. She dropped her hands from his cheeks down to the back of his neck, sliding under his jacket collar, certain that she was able to do so only because she had taken him by surprise. The only part of him that moved was trapped between her hips.

His mouth was open, but no words were coming out. The tension between them hummed as loudly as the female opera singer reaching a crescendo in the music filling the air.

"This is marvelously comfortable Mr. C," she said with a seductive smile. "Let's chat."

* * *

**Thank you for continuing to read! **

**~CosmicWitchFace**


	4. Ch 4 - Running Hot and Cold

"Wh-what do you think you're doing?" Oswald demanded in a voice that was thick with many different emotions.

The woman perched above him smiled. "You told me to get comfortable so we could talk. And I didn't want to be all the way across the room. Why? Isn't this acceptable?"

"You should know the answer to that," he snapped. Finally freeing himself from the shock of what was happening, he went to move his legs, but she simply seated her hips more firmly against him.

The friction made him gasp out loud.

"Yeah you may want to be careful. I don't want to crush any vital bits," she said with a laugh. "I've been known to have a pretty powerful lower half."

"This is insanity," he said, his voice once again hoarse. "All of this! Everything about you being here is ridiculous. You show up here, claiming it's for work and that you're not a double agent. I don't believe it. There has to be something you w-want."

His stammer followed an adjustment from her hips. He cursed himself – it was verbal weakness. And he hated showing weakness.

"You mean there's some_one _that I want, Mr. Cobblepot. Can I call you Oswald?"

Her breath was tickling his nose. She smelled...like pickles and tuna? He was sure if she knew, she still wouldn't care. Somehow the mere idea of her brazen nature was causing a stir in him he had never thought he'd feel. Or he was just upset that Cici had tended to her. He tried to tell himself it was the latter, to no avail.

"Oswald," she continued, her hands toying with his tie. "I try to think I have simple demands out of life. Since I couldn't ever chase my passions back home, I came to Gotham to try again. And I found you! An answer to all the things I enjoy in life. I crave magic. I yearn for a life filled with adventure and thrills, and I am absolutely obsessed with all things physical."

He could tell. Her body was shapely in all the right places, and moved all the right ways on top of him. She was a gorgeous example of woman, and that was a sobering thought. He knew what women were like. They were never interested in the brains of an operation. And he never once attempted to pull one over on himself. Ugly he may not have been, but handsome was a word he wouldn't ever use to describe his own visage.

"That doesn't answer any of my questions," he finally said heatedly. He was no longer trying to escape, but he also wasn't doing much of anything else. He was leaned back into the cushions, his hands balled tightly into fists. His thoughts were running hot and cold. It would be so easy to lay hands on her, press them into her willing body, feel just how feminine she was. Under all her rough and tumble nature, he wagered there were a few soft spots to discover. It made his mouth water.

Lune frowned and stopped her hands from straying towards his hair. Dropping her arms slowly, she settled upright, her mouth set like stone.

It only took him a moment to put her unspoken and spoken words together. "I see," was all he said. "That's actually the whole answer, isn't it?"

"W-well..."

His hands were suddenly around her throat. His mind was reeling. "Magic, thrill, sex? You want all of that out of life and somehow it led you here? To me? I'm supposed to believe somehow that I can s-satisfy all of these cravings?" To hell with that stammer! It belied every vulnerable part of him to this strange witch who was trying to tell him things he didn't want to believe. This strange witch who was gazing down at him from above his hands, her eyes swimming with emotions he refused to name.

"I heard all about Monica Vreeland," he continued. "Who would have guessed such a woman was harboring any magical tendencies. I didn't expect it coming from such a pompous, self entitled _bitch_. And I can't say I was unhappy with her end. However I'm much smarter than you seem to give me credit for. Therefore I can only surmise that you expected me to share her fate?"

Lune seemed to be fighting for breath. For a moment he worried he was pressing too hard. Then reminded himself it didn't matter even if he was.

"You _do_ have magic," she whispered against his fingers. The words sent a shiver down his spine."But that's only part of it."

"What's the other part then? No, let me guess," he chuckled mirthlessly. "Money. It always boils down to money. In this case gained upon my demise. Or were you sent here to merely be a distraction?"

She was a distraction, nothing more than that. An impossibly irresistible distraction. He watched, borderline horrified, as his fingers began to tremble against her skin. As if they moved on their own, they slid from being wrapped around her neck to graze against the top of her exposed collarbone.

When she arrived yesterday she had been in a decently respectable outfit consisting of a dress shirt and tie. The pants alone had provided him more to look at than he had wanted; still he had appreciated the view.

But she had changed into more laid back clothing. She was still wearing tight black pants. But the dress shirt and tie were gone, replaced with an off the shoulder, low cut number. It allowed him only glimpses of her skin, but that was enough. A woman tailored to drive him mad.

She grabbed his wrists and held them in place above her breasts. "It's never about money with me," she said in a low voice. "And I-I have a lot to say on the subject, but I'm having a hard time concentrating. On account of you being handsier than I anticipated." She attempted a laugh, but it was throttled by her breathlessness.

"Welcome to the world you've crafted for me this past day, Miss Lune," he said with a smirk. Now that he was in control, he felt a little better. And a little bolder.

Suddenly he gripped her backside in one hand and her right arm in the other; she gasped and reared up away from his legs. In a flurry of motion he wrenched her off his lap and pinned her to the couch between his legs. To his relief his bad leg cooperated in moving the way he wanted.

Anywhere they made contact, his skin tingled. He wasn't sure what had been causing that, but it was probably nothing more than physical attraction. Because there was no way in any level of hell it had anything to do with magic.

Yet there was no denying what emotion had taken over her face. Her wide, gray eyes were heavy storm clouds that mirrored how he had felt seeing her use her magic again. They were pressed so closely together that he could even feel the heat coming off of her body. It seared him to his core.

"You should have known I wouldn't do anything other than fight. Did the Sirens at least warn you that I'm not to be underestimated?" The words came from deep within his chest.

_Is that...is that my voice? _

It was intoxicating to hear himself in such a way. And it seemed to affect Lune as well. His hands weren't anywhere near her neck and she was struggling to get a breath.

"Never planned on underestimating you," she said. "But they did tell me you were clever."

"And?" he pressed.

"And so I'm hoping you'll be clever enough to hear me out. There's more going on here than I first admitted, you're right. But it's just because I didn't want to seem _too _crazy."

"Then before I terminate your incredibly short employment along with your life, I advise you to tell me everything." His words were brave, but he wasn't so sure they were accurate.

She had gone still beneath him. Her eyes didn't show any trace of the strange glow they seemed to get before she cast a spell, so he wagered she was willing to go along with his demand.

"Could we fuck first? I don't think well when I'm turned on."

All the blood in his body seemed to rush below his waist at once, leaving him feeling as if he was about to lose consciousness.

Unlike any of her previous jokes where she had been sporting an arrogant grin, there was no trace of fooling around on her face.

Oswald struggled to maintain his in control exterior. Inside, he was twisted up into confusing knots. He had never felt so aroused. He hadn't thought passion of the physical sort would ever appeal to him, but it was appealing incredibly hard in that moment. Still, he tried to resist. He was trying so, so hard to resist. "That-that's out of the question! What do you take me for, a weak willed and desperate sort of man? Because I am _neither_. I want that clear."

"I haven't thought either about you since we met," she said simply. Her arms reached up to wind around his neck. He felt her hips roll up against his, pressing his erection even tighter against her thighs, and he shuddered, biting back a moan.

"We've got a lot more between us than just the physical. I felt it the moment I entered this place. I could sense you before I even saw you. Have you noticed yourself feeling any sort of way? Riled up? Too much tension?"

_Oh, absolutely. _"No, not really," he lied. "Are you telling me that's the magic too? I still don't believe you, by the way. How would a person have magic inside of them and not know it existed?"

Lune sighed. "It's actually pretty common. I've taken magic, purely to sustain myself you hear, from many unsuspecting humans."

"And I suppose," he said, his voice a little more sluggish than usual. "That this all comes with that territory?"

"Oh no," she laughed. Her arms were slowly pulling his head down towards her own and he couldn't stop her. "This treatment is reserved only for certain humans."

"How many humans?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. They were so close, when she spoke her top lip brushed against his. He was losing this battle.

"So far? Three." Her honesty should have hurt, but it didn't. Somehow, in some way, he was beginning to feel...special. "But I've never believed the third time's the charm," she continued, her fingers finding their way into his hair. Her nails lightly scratched across his scalp. The tingles pulsated through his entire body. "Three isn't some magic number. Just seems that way when you put a limit on things. But anything that comes after that...that's when the magic really starts to sparkle through. That's when things get interesting. And you, Oswald, are _interesting._"

His mouth crushed down onto hers, stopping any further conversation. He needed it, he had to have it. The contact with her that he had been thinking about since it had first happened, when she had caught him by surprise. This time it was his turn. There was no stopping the way he was feeling, as much as he wanted to deny everything. The contact was deliciously electric. She bucked up against him, her fingers gripping his skull tightly. Oswald felt his control slip further with each passing second, his hands moving down to clutch at her hips. She wriggled them in his grasp. One of her legs wrapped around his, pushing his body even tighter against her own.

Their tongues collided in a dance of eagerness and desire. His body was wracked with the shakes, as if all his senses were going into overload.

He took her lower lip between his teeth, biting fiercely. She moaned against him. He tasted metal, and when he pulled away, he was slightly mortified to see blood trickle down her lip. But she grinned, and ran her tongue along the bite.

"Got a fierceness in you that I like, Oswald," she said. "Barbara said I would. Like you, I mean. I can see why, but I honestly think she meant for us to despise each other."

"Don't bring her up right now," he groaned. "That has to be some sort of bad form."

"Sorry," she said, not sounding it in the slightest. Her hands tangled his tie between them."Kiss and make it better?"

He was wrenched down by his tie, his mouth once again captured in a kiss so passionate he felt it in his toes; he felt as if he would burst at the seams. They spent a few muffled moments together, near frantic in their actions to be physically close to one another. Their hands roamed, their teeth clashed, and it was a viciously incredible experience.

Everything seemed to slip away that shouldn't have mattered. His bad leg, his inexperience, even his more base insecurities. She seemed to be able to tell how much he was enjoying things, and that was all he cared about.

And suddenly he realized he did care.

Her hands had just slipped below his belt, itching to release him from his clothing, when he reared up and pushed himself off of her. She propped herself up on her elbows, a confused look on her face.

His heart hammering in his chest, he just stared back from the opposite side of the couch.

"What...what happened?" she asked. "Did I get you with my nails? Is that not your thing?"

"No. I mean, I-I don't know." He blew out a breath and looked away from her. She looked too tempting, all curves, messy hair, and full lips.

She narrowed her eyes. "You still don't trust me," she said flatly.

When he didn't answer, she let her head fall back with a noise of frustration.

"I get it. Everyone in this city is out to get everyone else. I guess it's natural to mistrust the new witch. Is it really that hard to trust around here? I mean, you definitely were sending out signals that you were into it. And I was too. I'm not exactly subtle with what I want."

Oswald couldn't bring himself to say anything. She wasn't wrong on a single point. Everyone in Gotham had been out to get him since he had brought about a new era of crime. Ever since the death of his poor mother, he had promised himself not to get close to anyone. It hurt to much to lose someone he cared about.

Suddenly someone had sprung up that made him feel things? He didn't want to _feel_. He wanted to remain cold and aloof. Ready to fight for what he wanted out of life without anything holding him back.

The temptation to give in had been brief. Hell, he wagered he had earned their little sexual tussle. But anything more was going to be a threat.

"Oswald, you with me?"

Clearing his throat helped clear his head. "Lune, what just happened...it was an accident. A boss and his help shouldn't exactly fraternize."

She growled and cursed. "Yeah. Yeah, I figured you'd say something like that. Seriously though? Why?"

"Why? It's just not proper."

Lune glared at him. "You know what I meant."

There were too many butterflies in his stomach. It soured everything he had been feeling a moment ago. Which was probably for the best. That's what he told himself.

"You came here to be a janitor, for a safe haven. Well, that's what I'm giving you. Nothing more. As you said, I can't really trust anyone. So I think it best if we don't – if we don't continue this."

She glowered at him. "I don't agree. I know – I _felt _how you felt just now. Oh don't think I didn't," she laughed as he tried to shift his legs. "I felt every inch of you. And if you think I'm going to give up just because you're in denial, think again."

He watched as she slid from the couch. Watched as she chose to adjust herself right in front of his face; her pants had somehow slipped low on her hips. He bit his own lip to stop himself from reaching out to grab onto her.

When she turned around, it was with an expression of resolution.

"I'll back down for now. It _has _only been a day. We can take things slower. I'm not patient, but for you I think I can make an exception. This isn't going to be the last time, Mr. Cobblepot," she said. "You can trust me on that."

He watched her walk away, his mouth refusing to let him say anything.

The door clicked shut, and he was suddenly aware of the lack of music. The scraping of the needle against the record had him up and removing it methodically, though his actions were without thought.

It barely registered that his hands weren't steady at all. Or that his heart was still hammering away at his ribs.

Or that in some way, in some small part of his heart, he knew that she had been telling the truth.

* * *

**It continues! Didn't want it to be over too quickly, slow burns are fun. Thank you for continuing to read, I appreciate all the views for this late entry to the Gotham fandom. Especially with an OC involved. There are so many incredible stories out there. Also, just for clarification if anyone was wondering, this takes place somewhere within season 2. There are a few liberties taken, but I'm not sure I consider it an AU just yet. Once again, super appreciate you! **

**~CosmicWitchFace**


	5. Ch 5 - A Dinner Most Awkward

It was difficult to say who was confused more about the situation, Oswald or Lune. She certainly hadn't expected such an outcome to their evening.

Four days later and she was still running that night's events through her mind. It didn't make sense for him to suddenly withdraw. But he had, and her body nearly went into shock trying to cool off so quickly.

The thought was enough to boil her blood. She didn't like being rejected. With a huff, she stared around the large, well furnished study she was supposed to be cleaning. Because since then, of course, she had been nothing but a janitor.

Slopping the mop back down onto the floor, she leaned against the handle and allowed her mind to wander.

They hadn't had any further contact. She hadn't so much as gotten a glimpse of him in passing. The only people she had spoken to were Cici and Zsasz. The strange, wide eyed man always came to the kitchen in the morning for the most simple yet strange breakfast she had ever seen. A grilled cheese and ice cold tomato juice. And Cici had it ready every morning. Everyone in the house apparently ate like they were just discovering their taste buds. Not that could ever judge. Her favorite foods were all of them.

Ed had made an appearance at one point while she was tending to a downstairs bathroom, seemingly to gloat, but she had sent him packing with a few well aimed words. Lune wagered he could be a threat against Oswald if he wanted to be, but there was a strange friendship between the two.

The mop slipped from her grasp. Cursing, she tossed it back in the bucket and moved to the windows instead. She was supposed to tear down the curtains and get them washed, because the entire mansion had never been dusted in the history of its creation. Touching one with a finger she recoiled. It was thick velvet, which meant the dust would have permeated it to extremes she didn't want to deal with.

"Definitely justification for my actions," she said, rubbing her hands together. Letting the magic flow through her body, it felt good to use her power again.

"Evomer eht tsud tel eht moor maelg!" Sparks flew from her fingers. The air around her crackled and popped. A few moments later, every speck of dust from the room was gone, leaving fresh looking curtains and pristine book shelves.

"That's more like it!" she laughed. "Why haven't I been cleaning like this the whole damn time?"

A light, aerated feeling bubbled up from her stomach. It felt like hunger pains, only much worse.

"Oh. Right."

She nursed her stomach with a hand. It had always been a curious thing that she could feel her magic run low through her gut. But she supposed that's where the slang term 'magic eaters' had come from. Her family was made out to be crass and unrefined in many cultures. And even though she agreed in some ways, it was still a blow to her pride.

The bubbling grew worse the more she thought about it. "I'll probably run out soon if I don't get a snack. Damn. What the hell happened with Oswald?"

"Lune? It's time for dinner. Are you coming?" Cici had popped her head through the door of the study. "We're going to have – surprise – meat and bread. I even managed to find some potatoes that weren't all bad. I would honestly go to war for some fresh greens." Despite the remorse over the lack of supplies coming in to the Cobblepot estate, the cook seemed to be in high spirits.

Lune, however, shied away. "No thanks. Just leave a plate in the kitchen for me. I'll grab it once I'm done here." She didn't want to sit at the same table as Oswald. Especially when she was running low on magic. There was no telling what she would do.

Cici rolled her eyes. "Look, you've been like this all week and you won't bother to tell me why. So I'm going to tell you what to do. Come to dinner, repercussions be damned. I'm sick of all this weird cat and mouse. Plus I'm getting sick of washing extra dishes."

"Sure, blame that on me and not Zsasz's late night snack habits."

"The man has to keep his strength up."

"Ooh, heel girl."

"Shut your dick holster, there wasn't anything meant by it." Cici was definitely defensive when it came to Zsasz.

Lune laughed. She had a theory that Cici was sweet on the murder gopher. "So, we're still having supply issues?"

Cici propped herself against the door frame, arms crossed. "Yeah, pretty sure the opposition has something to do with it. Mr. Cobblepot has a lot of enemies."

"But why would they want to stop him from having a salad with dinner?"

"Think about it. Who could live off meat and baked goods? Besides you, you bucket on legs," Cici snapped as Lune started to raise her hand. "Gets you sick. If you don't eat right, you don't fight right. Easy enough targets, when you don't have the energy to lift your gun. Not good for morale either. No one comes to dinner anymore. Not even the dock workers."

Lune rolled her eyes. "Yeah, pretty sure people are gonna totally revolt against Oswald because he doesn't feed them carrots."

"Oh, we're calling him by his first name now, are we? I knew something happened between the two of you the other night."

Cici's face lit up gleefully. Lune just scowled.

"Absolutely not. Just haven't ever been good at using titles, and 'Mr. Cobblepot' seems way too stuffy."

"Right, well, if you decide to come clean, I want all the details. I don't get much in the way of dining room gossip, since all they do is talk business."

"Right, well, I'll think about it," Lune said. It was tempting; Cici was an enjoyable conversationalist.

"And come to dinner, or I'll poison everything you could snack on in the kitchen!" Cici called as she headed out the door.

"Yeah right, who would you get to fix all the glasses you smash?" Lune yelled back.

Dinner meant having to sit at the table with Oswald and everyone else at the house, because he believed in one meal. Lune suspected so that no one would be tempted to spy on the dinner conversation. But it also meant that she could talk to other humans and have some regular social interaction. Not to mention Cici's cooking was actually pretty good.

"Yawa og," she said to the mop bucket, which vanished from the room without argument.

"I'll be there in a moment, I just need to find the market catalog I was working on earlier, think it was in the study."

There hadn't been any warning before Oswald walked in, his face stamped with shock at seeing her.

_Damn you Cici! You could have said something. You let this happen, _she thought, tossing her hair behind her shoulder and putting her hands on her hips.

"Hi," was all she could muster.

"Hello," he said before moving his gaze away from her and heading towards the writing desk.

Her eyes followed him unashamedly. He always wore immaculate suits, probably tailored just for him. This one was no different, a deep charcoal that offset his pale skin, He matched it with a violet tie, and she had to admit that pinstripes were definitely flattering for him. He was all sharp lines and harsh edges, and she wanted to smash herself to pieces against him.

_Settle down, hormones, holy hell! I'm gonna get a damn nosebleed at this rate. This is awful. Why should you feel awkward? He's the one who stopped things for no reason._

He rummaged in the desk for a moment before he found what he was after, a small black notebook. When he turned around, she forced herself to grab a pillow from one of the chairs and fluff it.

"Just...finishing this place up," she said, swearing at herself viciously for sounding so pathetic.

"It...it looks...clean," he said in a voice as lame as hers.

"I uh, I guess I know my way around a mop bucket," she said with a small laugh.

He gave her a polite little smile. "I suppose you do."

She dropped the pillow and awkwardly wiped her hands against her legs. From the corner of her eye, she watched his gaze drop to the motion. His hand tightened around his cane.

_Yes, he still wants it! _Her thoughts were joyous. There was hope for soothing her hunger pains. All of them.

"Well, I'll... finish up here and see you at dinner?" she asked, clapping her hands together and making direct eye contact.

He looked startled. "You're going to be at dinner?"

"Is that a problem?"

"No," he said hastily. "Just...you've been absent so I wasn't sure...what changed."

He knew exactly what had changed. "Ah, that. I uh, haven't been feeling great and my janitor stuff cut into dinner time. But I'll be there tonight!" The excuses sound like they were from a can, but she doubted it mattered.

"Right. Well, I'll see you there," he said. He made for the door.

"Should I dress up too?" she asked, unable to help herself.

"What?" He sounded as confused and borderline agitated as he looked.

She shrugged but gestured his way, and allowed her gaze to travel from his shoes to his eyes, allowing them to linger on all her favorite parts. "I just figured, with you looking like you're gonna be dessert, maybe I should make myself presentable too?"

Oswald's mouth dropped open slightly. Though she had discovered him to be susceptible to flattery in their first meeting, she hadn't known if it was a way to fluster him. Now she knew – it was.

"Y-you look fine," he said, his eyes flitting between her figure and her face.

"Thanks," she said, offering him a wink.

He flushed but said nothing more before leaving her alone, his retreat a hasty one.

The excitement was back. He may not have been able to trust her, but it had nothing to do with the chemistry between them. All the outside forces that he was struggling with seemed to be the issue. She could work with that. If he still wanted the physical between them, that meant she could swing things in her favor.

Suddenly going to dinner was a walk in the park. Figuring out what she wanted to wear was going to be a lot harder of a mission.

* * *

"I was really hoping for answers as well as a dinner that finally had some volume to it," Oswald said, trying to keep his tone light as Cici finished serving the people sitting at the table. It was a small gathering that night, just what he would consider his main crew.

Tony had never reported back, which had put him in a foul mood. A group of dock workers had been expected to report in with a log for his most recent black market auction, but they hadn't bothered to check in either. The mood was malevolent at best.

He was joined by Ed, Zsasz, Butch, and Cici. Lune hadn't shown up, and among the rotten news he had received that night, her absence was somehow the most grating on his nerves.

"I do what I can with what I have," the cook said tersely, drawing him back to the present.

"I know, Cici. That wasn't aimed towards you. You've done an amazing job once again. Thank you."

She looked pleased. As much as the hard working, hard faced cook _could_ look pleased.

"Now, someone talk to me about what's going on here." He pointed to the plate in front of him. A small cut of meat, a few tiny roasted potatoes, and several dinner rolls made up dinner.

"It's pretty obvious that someone's trying to get under our skin," Butch said. "But I just don't understand why they're stealing food and alcohol instead of our weapons or other cargo."

"It sounds like a modern scorched earth method," Zsasz said, accepting the extra rolls Cici passed him.

Ed snorted from his place at the table. "If whoever is doing this wanted to utilize military tactics, they wouldn't just halt produce and liquor deliveries. They'd stop us from getting any sort of food or supplies at all."

"Isn't that what I just said?" Zsasz asked, his third roll vanishing into the void that was his mouth.

"Mm, it was a little more watered down than that," Ed said. Oswald could hear the scathing undertone, and hoped that it would pass Zsasz by. They didn't exactly get along.

"Thanks Cici, this is delicious," Butch said humbly from where he sat at Oswald's side. It was an excellent diversion, one which Oswald was grateful for. Zsasz seemed to ignore Ed to nod his agreement with Butch.

Ed wrinkled his nose but looked content to also tuck into his meal.

"Any guesses as to who may be behind this?" Oswald asked after they had eaten in silence for a few minutes.

"I know it's rather like beating a dead horse, but my bet is on Barbara and her entourage," Ed said matter of factly.

"Why does it always have to be them?" Butch demanded.

"Because more than half the time it _is _them," Ed said.

"Unfortunately," Oswald grumbled. "Ed is correct."

"It's unfortunate that I'm correct or it's unfortunate that it's always Barbara?" Ed sounded confused and outraged.

"Take your pick," Oswald snapped, tossing the roll he had been ripping up onto his plate.

"You seem a little on edge, this is really bothering you that badly?" Butch asked, leaning in. "We can always go uh, shopping on the sly, you know? That's still an option."

It was draining to think that no one was on the same level as he was in that moment. Pushing on his temples, he tried to calm his enraged thoughts. "What is the point of having organized crime if we don't hold ourselves to a higher standard?"

He wasn't going to make it through the meal without smashing something at the rate things were declining.

"Hey, dinner still on? I'm starving."

His heart jumped into his throat to get stuck there with part of a roll.

"Hi Lune, saved you a place," he heard Cici say.

"Thanks it looks great. Uh, sorry I'm late?"

Oswald forced himself to look up, and immediately wished he hadn't. When he swallowed, he felt his heart drop straight to his lap.

Her midnight colored hair was swept into a side plait. The shock of silver that ran through her hair, down her face and across her collarbone stuck out against the jet black dress she had on. He could see the stripe clearly thanks to the massive peekaboo window on the front. Her skin looked radiant, a perfectly smooth blend of caramel and chocolate.

She had called him dessert and then had the audacity to show up looking good enough to devour?

Their eyes met across the table, and she gave him a resplendent smile.

He desperately wished they were the only ones in the room. Then felt grateful that they weren't. There were so many things he wanted to do with her, _to _her.

"Uh, boss, can I get going? I told you I had that thing to look after at the docks," Butch said, snapping Oswald out of his daydreams.

"What – oh, yes. Just try not to do anything stupid. And be back by morning. We'll need to start planning how to fix these supply issues."

Butch excused himself from the table and left the room. Oswald watched Lune as she narrowed her eyes at the departing man. She looked pensive and alarmed; he made a mental note to ask her about her suspicions later.

"So...what issues are you talking about?" Lune asked, turning her attention back to the table.

"Remember carrots?" Cici asked, and they both laughed.

_When did they get close? _He didn't necessarily mind, but there was something bubbling inside of him that he wasn't familiar with.

"-so if we find out who's taking or stopping the supplies, we'd actually be able to have some veggies in the house. And I swear if one more shipment of my brandy goes missing..."

"Oh seriously? Damn. Well what if I help?" Lune took a massive drink from her glass as silence settled over the table.

"What do you mean exactly by _help_?" Ed asked.

"For someone who says they're incredibly smart I thought it'd be clear what I meant?" she said facetiously.

Oswald watched in mute fascination as Ed's face darken.

"What I meant was, what if I just get your supplies? You have them brought in specially for some reason?"

"Yes," Oswald chimed in. He was proud of his brilliance and wanted to showcase it. "It's the only way to ensure there's no funny business with our food and drink. I came up with the idea after my father was poisoned."

"That's thinking outside the box! The sad, sad box. Does everyone hate everyone in this city?"

"Pretty much," Zsasz said simply, pushing his plate forward and standing up. "Thank you Cici. Good night."

"Night Mr. Zsasz," she said, beaming at the quiet man.

As if he couldn't help but simply take everything in, Oswald noticed Lune nudge Cici with an elbow. His cook flushed and aggressively slapped her several times on the arm. Lune cackled.

What the hell was going on in his house?

Ed fastidiously wiped his mouth on his napkin and stood. "Good night all. I have some matters of my own to attend to. If you still need help with solving the so called _scorched earth _problem, let me know."

His pointed stare unnerved Oswald. But he offered his friend a smile. "Good night, sleep well."

Cici cleared her throat as Ed left. "Well I do have a few things I need to tidy up in the kitchen. I'll leave the two of you to talk business. Hopefully I'll see you in the morning Lune. Try not to oversleep again or I'll burn your toast."

"You're just covering your ass because I know you'll burn it anyway you fraud! Good night!"

Before Oswald had time to vocalize his protest, Cici had also vacated the room.

And suddenly, as had so badly wanted earlier, he and Lune were alone.

He closed his mouth, then opened it again before realizing he had nothing to say.

Lune pushed the plait of her hair behind her ear. "I could do it, you know," she said, locking eyes with him. "I'd obviously have to see the crates or...whatever you freaking ship vegetables in, but I could transport them right into the kitchen if I wanted."

"And why would you do something like that?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Because there's not really a reason why I shouldn't. Also if Cici runs out of brandy she's likely to murder someone, and I don't want her to go to jail."

His temper seemed to flare up for no reason. What had gotten into him? For some reason he wanted to ruin things between the two women. He didn't want them to get close, and he didn't want Lune to care about Cici's damned brandy. The bubbly feeling was back in his gut, but now it was also in his chest. His vision seemed to tunnel. "And what if I told you it wouldn't matter if she did?" He wanted to destroy whatever they had, and he wasn't even sure they _had _anything.

"Wow, so you even hate your help? That's kind of harsh, Oswa – Uh, Mr. C. Puts a damper on us, huh?"

The lack of his name from her lips egged him on even further. Cici had wanted it kept a secret, and some small part of him felt guilty for continuing, but it was fuel for this fire between them, and he was going to use it.

"On the contrary. I don't hate her at all," he said. "She's one of the most helpful members of my staff and a woman of many talents. She's simply a treasure trove of medicinal knowledge. What I mean is that she doesn't have long for this world, and so a stint in jail is the least of her worries."

He watched Lune's face range from confusion to horror.

"What – what does that mean? Are you saying Cici is going to...die?"

"I make it a point to hire people who have nothing to lose," he said. "It gives them a sense of stability during their final days on the earth, and provides me with help I can trust."

"I don't – what does that _mean_? Why is she going to..."

"I'll leave the rest to her. You two seem close."

Lune looked livid. "Super. The one person in this place that has any kind of humanity and she's dying. The one person who doesn't deserve it, and what, you're going to tell me there's no way to help her?"

Oswald shook his head. "I wish I could. But as I said, there's nothing that can be done, so we make the best out of the situation." The words were honest, but in the aftermath of saying them he felt...dirty.

Lune seemed to be fighting off quite a bit of rage. He didn't blame her. There were many nights he wished he had a cure for Cici. She was a good woman.

And now that he had said all those things, Oswald wished he could take them back.

"What the hell has happened to you that's gotten you to this point?" Lune said in a voice that was jarringly furious. "Where you hire dying people you can't save, and blow all your money on useless projects?"

"I don't understand why _you're _upset. This is _my _life. You've only just gotten here. Cici shouldn't even matter to you. And I've been doing just fine maintaining balance without you or any sort of magic powers. Which, again, I don't really believe I have. You're after something, as is everyone in this city. It's just a matter of time before I figure out what it is."

She slammed her hands down on the table. "I'm upset because this place doesn't make any sense! It's all backstabbing and murder. No one's allowed to feel good about literally anything. I guess I'm also pissed that Cici is dying maybe? That's a lot to drop on someone and not expect them to be upset."

"A part of life I'm afraid," he said, rolling his shoulders. Though the words sounded hollow coming out. "Don't get attached. Especially because you've been here less than a week."

"You really don't know how to form relationships, do you?"

He thought of Jim Gordon, and what their 'friendship' had been like. The 'friendship' he had with Ed was certainly built on some interesting foundations.

"I admit they're not my strong suit," was all he said.

She huffed. "Yeah, I've only been here for a few days, but I've already been able to develop strong feelings toward people here. Towards Cici! She's a good person, she's just...caught up in all this bullshit. It's not that difficult to feel warmly towards someone else. But I guess you have to be born outside of Gotham for that to be possible."

"Which leads me back to something I don't understand. You claimed you could be useful when we – when we first met. I thought you were talking about janitorial services. But you've offered up your magic instead. Why?"

"I've told you. Multiple times now! You've got something I want. I was up front...ish... about it. You've got latent magic that I find _really _irresistible. The only challenge we would face is that in order to give you my magic, I'd need to snack on some of yours. Make sense now? You get to use my powers if you give me some of the energy you're not even using. That's it. That's the big ol' catch. Nothing more, nothing less."

She was fervent in her delivery. Her eyes flashed that mixture of magenta and gray that signaled she was getting riled up.

He was finding it to be quite the turn on with each time he witnessed it. Though his libido was hiding beneath all the shame he was feeling after letting Cici's secret out.

Still, he attempted to maintain normalcy. "So then what you're saying, if I hear you properly," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Is that you just want to siphon the magic off me, in order to use the magic...for me. I'm still not seeing where _you _profit."

"Do I have to?" She put emphasis on each of the words.

"Let me correct myself. Will you profit off of this?" He had to figure her out. As long as he knew what he was in for when it came to Lune, it would make things easier on him.

She did a little frustrated bounce. Intentional or not, it got his attention.

_Or a lot harder, _he thought, scooting his chair closer to the table and adjusting his lower half.

"As I demonstrated the first day, and explained the last time we were together, we've got something between us. Look, I've said it before but it bears repeating. I could have sided with Barbara. Or the GCPD. But Barbara wanted a stage hand, and Gordon is a proper guy – he'd put me in a jail cell for being what I am. I didn't want to be a side show and I sure as hell don't want to be a prisoner. So who does that leave? The king of Gotham. Who also happens to have some seriously delicious old magic. Your mother came from a long line of fortune tellers. Did you know that?"

"I-I did not," he said, taken off guard. His heart beat heavily at the mention of his mother. He missed her each day, and it seemed as if the pain never really left him.

Lune's expression softened. "A beautiful sort of magic." Her tone had become reverent. "Very powerful, and very old. When Barbara told me about her, and what happened to her, it took all my will power not to burn that entire place to the ground. But I figured that would complicate things. Figured you may want to do the honors."

Oswald clenched his fists. "I would very much like that, indeed."

"I came to you because I felt we'd have a connection. And if I'm wrong, I'll apologize and become the best damn janitor in your employment. I mean, not the best because I can't handle ladders or glass cleaning," she added, waving a hand. "But I'll clean and practice magic quietly, and I won't pressure you into anything further. I mean, shit, you're not even paying me. But that's fine. I've got – I've got Cici for company for as long as she'll be around and...and be there for her. I'll take your offer of asylum here, and nothing else."

She seemed incredibly sincere. And then a thought hit him like a thunderbolt.

"You said you're a VaDoma?"

"Regrettably," she said with a pursed mouth.

"Your clan has trouble lying if the people they interact with remain truthful."

"Something like that," she said.

"I was honest with you when we first met," he said. He watched her eyes widen. "I told you I was Penguin. I told you I wanted honesty among my team, and I expressed dissatisfaction with Barbara. And I was very truthful when I said I only enjoy the company of people who can make themselves useful. I didn't lie to you about anything. All of what I said to you was the truth."

"Which means I'm not able to lie to you about anything," she said, leaning forward in her excitement.

"Correct." He smiled, his trap neatly arranged for her to stumble into head first. When it came down to strategy, he did always preferred a strong defense. "So answer me one very simple question, Lune."

She looked so eager for whatever question he was about to ask, to prove herself innocent of any deceit. He felt almost badly for tricking her.

"Were you sent here by Barbara Kean to be my undoing?"

Silence.

Lune stared at him, her jaw working. It was almost enough of an answer. But he wanted to hear it. His insides were once again twisted in knots. He gripped the tablecloth in his hands, clutching so tight he was sure he would stain the white with his own blood.

"Did Barbara Kean send you here to ultimately destroy everything I've worked for?" he pressed.

There was a deep inhale of breath, and then a small, one word answer that had him feeling triumphant and sick all at once.

"Yes."

* * *

**This thing is writing itself, I swear! Why aren't those two _doing _things yet? There's smut hidden around here somewhere, I guess we just have to find it? Though if it's not within the next few chapters I'm going to be superbly miffed. Also, Cici is also an OC in case there was any confusion. Possible smut opportunities there? I've always been curious about Zsasz's bedroom habits. Alright, not always. You got me. **

**As always, thank you so much for sticking with this outrageous thing! I appreciate you. **

**~CosmicWitchFace**


	6. Ch 6 - Dessert is Served

"Did Barbara Kean send you here to ultimately destroy everything I've worked for?"

Lune's mind seized up with Oswald's question. She couldn't lie, not that she wanted to. But telling the truth meant she'd have to get him to listen to the _whole_ truth. Which could take a small amount of time to explain. And after the shock bomb dropped on her regarding Cici, she was feeling just a smidge drained emotionally.

Realizing the silence had stretched between them for much too long, she hastily answered.

"Yes."

The look on his face was tortured. He looked so pleased that he had been right, and yet so hurt at the same time.

"But-!" she rushed to finish. "And you know whatever I say next will also be true so you'd _better_ let me say it."

That seemed to diminish some of the hurt in his eyes. And for what it was worth, it gave her a little strength to continue.

"I only agreed because I thought it sounded fun. At the time, I had no idea what I was getting into. They got their claws into me at a vulnerable moment. Seriously. I've never had someone get the jump on me before, I'll admit. And there was no way for me to know I'd become so...interested in you. It was during our first meeting I decided I wasn't going to go through with their plan."

Her gaze was drawn to his hands. They were gripping the tablecloth like it was his lifeline. She wanted them to be attached to her like that. The thought was titillating.

"Which was _what_ exactly?"

"They said I could...Look, I wasn't ever lying when I said I enjoy the physicality of a relationship. They wanted me to use that to keep you distracted. Barbara figured I could use my creative bedroom antics to keep you out of the way. And they probably figured either we'd become too attached so they'd be able to get to you via me. Or you'd see through things, off me, and I wouldn't be able to become a threat. You know, because I have _such _threatening goals." She couldn't prevent her eyes from rolling.

"But you possess a power they don't understand and you weren't willing to offer to them. That's what made you a threat."

He sounded rational. Rational was good. It meant he was listening. And hopefully believing.

"That last part is just speculation. The goal was to distract you long enough for her to snatch the city out from under you."

She expected something from him. Literally, anything. An angry outburst, a disappointed sigh. But she got nothing. They sat in silence for what seemed like ages.

And then he laughed. A soft chuckle at first, which morphed into a shoulder wracking mirth fest. She had no idea why he was laughing, but she wagered it was cause for concern.

"You were literally hired to be a whore," he said, wiping at his eyes. "And what did my beloved mother warn me about? The wiles of women, stealing me away from everything important."

"Hey woah," she said, holding her hands up, offended. "A whore? That's a bit extreme. Just because I like sex doesn't make me a whore."

"Mmhm, so let me ask you another question."

She didn't like the sound of that.

"Did you have any...sexual interactions with those Sirens?"

_Ah shit,_ she thought. She couldn't lie, but she was really regretting the quick, impersonal romp she had with them. Especially because she had discovered Oswald.

"Again, _yes_," she said through gritted teeth. "But there's more to it."

"I'm all ears," he said dryly. The brittle leash on his fury that she had sensed during their first meeting was snapping.

"I've been starved!" she exclaimed, slamming her hands on the table and standing up. He wanted honesty? He was going to get it. "Alright. So I left home because I wasn't able to do the things I love. I couldn't eat magic, I just had to be given it through boring, tedious ceremonies. I couldn't touch, or kiss, or be intimate with others. I was being molded into the perfect and pristine female. Which meant I also couldn't be wild and crazy. No late nights, parties, fights – I had to learn to simper and curtsy. Which is garbage by the way. Who the hell wants to know how to purse their lips and bat their eyelashes to get what they want?"

She did just that, pouting her lips, fluttering her lashes at him. "Does this make you want to spoil me? Cover me in jewels and tell me I'm a pretty lady?"

He snorted. But then genuinely laughed as she kicked over her chair did an overly dramatized curtsy. All the while making her lips as wide as they could be and making ridiculous faces.

Oswald shook his head as she leaned against the table to blow out her breath. "I suppose it does not. You look ridiculous."

She laughed and flung her hands out. "Right! Totally useless. Knowing what makes another human purr...now _that's _a worthwhile skill."

"And that...really fascinates you?" He sounded curious.

She liked curious.

"It sure does. You into anything particular?"

He made a face. It was cute the way the lines around his mouth deepened. The bridge of his nose wrinkled too. She was developing a serious infatuation with his little quirks.

"I must admit, my mother had me believing for the longest time that females would poison the mind. You haven't really done much to prove her wrong."

"Smart woman," she chuckled. "I do enjoy being a pretty poison. I get in deep. Taking up precious space in that brain of yours."

"You've already succeeded there," he murmured.

She thrilled to hear it. "Well, there you have it. My dramatic back story as promised. The truth about why I originally showed up. But now you also know why I've stayed."

"Ah, yes. The magic I seemingly possess." His tone was disbelieving again. "I find it interesting that my mother never mentioned anything, nor have I ever felt this power."

This was her chance. "Would you like me to show you what you've got?"

Lune watched him squirm in his seat. His brows had turned upward, a funny thing he did when he was trying to control his physical urges. When he spoke, his voice was full of desire. "Seems like that statement could mean a few different things."

That was all the invitation she needed. Running her tongue over her teeth to ensure they were clean, she purposely strode around the table to pull his chair back. He made a stunned noise as he was dragged backward. Then he made a completely different noise as she seated herself on his lap.

Her dress rode up, her bare thighs pressing against his legs. Her breasts hovered before his face, which showed a drastic range of emotions. She caressed his cheeks slowly, letting her nails lightly glide across his skin.

"It could mean whatever you want it to," she murmured. "But I'd love to show you what I've been craving. A magic so powerful it's made me unable to think about anything else since being here. Plus I _am_ running a little low. It makes me kinda... hangry."

"I...what happens when you...eat a person's magic?" he asked. Whether he was aware of it or not, he was pressing his face into her hands. She felt so endeared to the man beneath her, she wanted to smother him in kisses.

"Well, if I don't have any attachments to the person, it's pretty cut and dry. Get them alone, get close enough to paralyze them, take their magic."

"And...if there's an attachment?" he asked in a voice that told her what he was hoping to hear.

"Oh you know. Get them alone, get close enough to paralyze them." She ever so slightly rolled her hips. The reaction was immediate; she felt him grow hard against her inner thighs. She let a shudder course through her. Leaning down, she put her mouth close to his ear. "And if they're _real _nice to me, I'll even ask sweetly before taking it."

"You gonna ask then?" All his posh mannerisms had vanished. As she had so desperately wanted, his hands were suddenly gripping her hips tightly. It made her ache with desire.

She wound her arms around his neck and leaned down. Gratifyingly noting that his eyes did for a moment rest on her breasts, she grinned. "Oswald Cobblepot, can I – _may I _have some of your magic? Don't make me beg, it'll get naughty up in here real fast."

* * *

Oswald's head was spinning. Was this really happening?

"I have to warn you, when I take it from you, you can never get it back. But I promise I'll make it feel good." Lune said in a sultry, midnight voice. "So may I please have some of it?"

It was definitely happening.

And he was lusting after every moment.

"Take it," he panted.

Without any warning, his body convulsed. It felt like something was being ripped from his stomach, being dragged all the way up his throat. He wanted to struggle away, but he couldn't. Her grip on him didn't falter. Her one hand still captured his face, the other was pushing down against his thigh, pinning him to the chair. Yet again he was being dominated, and again he wasn't hating it.

It felt incredible.

When she inhaled next, he could have cried out from shock. A bright blend of lights materialized between them. A veritable hue of colors, it flowed into Lune's waiting mouth.

Unable to move on his own other than the tremors wracking him, he could only let his eyes dart from the light to her face. A witch sent to corrupt him, so stunningly beautiful and powerful.

Could his mother ever forgive him?

Oswald leaned forward to kiss her, wanting more than he would ever say out loud.

As their lips met, the energy between them crackled and burst, jarring him from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes. He felt it race through her as well, like a current being given free reign between their bodies.

She was kissing him back an instant later, her moan of delight doing wonderful things to him. He let his hands slide up her back and then down to cup her backside. He had no idea what he was doing, but she was leading the way. Her fingers were in his hair, nails against his scalp. Noises wanted to burst from his throat at how tantalizing it felt, but her tongue muffled any sounds he would have made.

A moment later they were separated. She was hovering over him, looking as breathless as he felt.

"That's what happens," she said. "When I take someone's magic who is willing. And damn, were you willing. I have to say, best so far. I've never done it this way, gotta say I'm a fan. And no one has ever _kissed _me during the process! That felt electric."

"Glad I could accommodate," he said, completely out of breath, his chest heaving.

"And if you were interested in knowing, your magic tastes delicious. Monica's was all dried up, like sucking on a toothbrush." She made a face. "Kind of minty I guess, but it wasn't the greatest. You... you taste like a crisp, rainy day mixed with a roaring fire. Very snappy. Zesty? I guess you'd say zesty."

Somehow the news excited him even more. "I'm not certain I understand what that means. But if it's anything like the way I just felt, I have to admit I'm impressed. And my mother had magic like this?"

"Definitely. Wow, I have to just say thank you. I'm full up."

He was watching her face. Her little quirks, like the way she pursed her lips in a smirk when she was pleased, or the way her eyes were never still. He knew she was doing the same thing, taking in his face. He wondered what she saw.

"What made you become interested in me over any one else in this city? I mean, surely you could have stayed with Barbara. I suppose she's attractive." The words felt bitter in his mouth.

"Ehh, I'm more into the dark and polished look. I like a person who's not afraid to give as much as they take." Her hands smoothed over his jacket front, and he felt mollified. "What about you, Oz? I think I asked you a little earlier, you into anything in particular?"

"I _have _always had a penchant for the unusual."

It wasn't a lie. The few people he had been even the slightest bit attracted to were never without their quirks. And while he wasn't necessarily well versed in the art of all things carnal, he knew what he enjoyed.

She looked intrigued, and excited. "Do I come anywhere close to your preferences by chance?"

"Oh, I don't know," he said, not missing the flirtatious note in his own voice. "I wouldn't rule out the possibility that I..." He faltered. The stammer was imminent because he had no idea how to flirt or tease her. What was he going to say?

_I need you. I want you. I want your bare skin against mine, I want to feel every quiver, hear every one of your moans, I ache to hear you cry my name... _

"Ooh, what on earth are you thinking about?" she said with a little gasp, rearing up slightly.

He realized with the way she was seated on his lap, his arousal was easily felt. And thinking about Lune thrashing in pleasure underneath him had his already hardened cock rubbing up against her.

"Um, I was just..."

He inhaled and scrunched his face up trying to come up with something, anything. But he was struggling to find the words when all the blood was pooling below his waist.

"Alright, let's stop talking." Lune's tone was steeped in midnight again. Her arms wrapped around his neck, bringing her body up close and against his own. His face was suddenly pressed firmly between her breasts. "I want something more from you. I know, _I know_, I said I only wanted your magic. Consider this a thank you, for being my snack." She chuckled. "So what I want, is for you to tell me what _you _want. Because if it's me, darling I'm yours."

His entire body thrummed with desire at her words. Her eyes traveled over his face, watching his every breath. Still pressed against her breasts, he could feel her heart racing. If he was reading her properly, and he would bet his entire reign over Gotham he was, Lune was his for the taking.

Taking a deep, ragged breath, he let it out, watching her bite her lip as she waited silently for him to answer.

And when he did, he made sure there was no question about what it was that he wanted.

* * *

**Thank you to everyone who has continued reading to this point! I appreciate you so, so much. Fair warning, the next chapter is _the _chapter. You know the one. And I'm so excited. I was honestly thinking of prolonging things because I enjoy writing these two together, but it just seemed to work out better this way. Plus I know y'all are eager for some sexy payoff. Once again, massive thank yous all around to those who have stuck with it. Any questions or comments, let me know!**

**~CosmicWitchFace**


	7. Ch 7 - Spiral Downward Together

Lune's head was positively spinning with ecstasy. Oswald had definitely answered her, but in a way she hadn't expected. A simple "let's head to the bedroom" would have worked for her. But instead, his lips had dominated her own, his hands fastened around her wrists to hold her tight against his chest. Their breath mingled raggedly as their tongues clashed, his hips bucking up as she drew his bottom lip between her teeth.

One of her wrists was released so he could clasp her neck, pulling her further down into his kisses. Lune groaned with pleasure. His leash had slipped; Oswald was digging his nails into her skin, showing her exactly what she was in for. It was wicked and primal. And she loved it.

Oswald broke away to press a hot kiss against her ear. "Consider this my answer," he whispered against her neck.

Lune huffed, a shiver running down her back. "Thank the stars. If this was rejection I'd be horribly confused."

He inhaled against her skin. "Rejection? I'm not sure why I thought that was even possible. I... I have no idea what you've done to me. I'll have to reflect on whether or not you've cursed me somehow. But it seems this was slated to be my answer since the first day we met."

"Woah excuse me," she said, pulling away to look down at him. His face, nestled between her breasts, provided her with a smirk, giving away the fact that he had been teasing. His eyes were dark with desire.

"I never cursed you. You just looked like a full course meal," she said, nipping at his earlobe. "And I'm basically always starving."

His shuddering breath warmed the valley between her breasts. It made her skin tingle.

When he spoke, it was in a low whisper, as if the words themselves were shy. "Then I'll do my best tonight to ensure you're left satisfied."

It was a little sappy, but she appreciated the effort. And hell, she was the one who sounded like a cheap romantic paperback.

With a few more kisses, she had him enticed from the chair, letting him lead the way through the dark, still hallways until they reached his set of rooms.

They didn't speak, instead letting the tension between their bodies build. When he opened the door, it was with a silent, flourished gesture that she should go in first.

As with the rest of the décor, everything seemed lavish yet outdated. Comfortable, yet well worn.

Hoping to look around for a moment, she was taken by surprise when his arms wrapped around her. She heard his cane clatter to the floor, the noise more startling than his sudden touch.

"I..."

His voice was a little unsteady. She could feel his uneven breathing against the back of her neck. Her hands rested gently on top of his.

"I've never...been incredibly intimate with anyone. Certainly nothing like what's transpired between us."

"Promise, I won't bite unless you ask me to," she said with a small chuckle.

He took a deep breath. Then snorted a laugh. "I would think _you'd_ want _me_ to do the biting."

"Ooh, he's got fight in him after all!" she exclaimed, bumping up against him playfully. "Well let me preface this whole sexy adventure novel we're about to write by saying you can bite me anywhere you'd like."

"I think I'll enjoy that."

His hands immediately went for her breasts.

She gave him a moan of encouragement. He seemed to respond positively to any verbal reaction. Which was fine with her – the louder she could be the better.

She wiggled within his grasp, hips knocking up against his, loving the feel of his already hard cock pushing forward into her.

"You take charge like this," she huffed, falling back against him, "and I'll just melt all over you."

His long fingers pressed and caressed, eliciting noises of delight from her.

"Maybe that's what I want," he whispered, his voice even raspier than normal.

Twisting in his arms so she could face him, she pressed her lips against his, wanting to drink in every noise he made. His hands roamed her body, and she thrilled in the exploratory way his fingers touched her.

She allowed her own hands to wander, finally letting them settle below his belt. The bulge she felt was delightfully responsive, as if simply at her attention he grew harder. If they didn't get down to it quickly, they were both going to have trouble with stamina.

"Want to get more cozy?" she murmured when she could catch a breath.

He merely nodded. A hand tightened around her arm; she wasn't sure if he was simply leading her towards the bed or if he needed her for stability. His cane still lay on the floor, whether forgotten or ignored, she wasn't about to mention it. It made her heart beat faster with a mixture of emotions.

Lune had always been one for quick undress, but Oswald seemed to have different ideas. He settled her on the edge of the bed, and knelt before her. While excited by the view of him on his knees in front of her, she was beginning to feel something close to embarrassment. It grew stronger as he proceeded to take her heels off.

"Listen, I don't need any fancy treatment..." she started to say. Then moaned as he began to massage her aching heel. Was she allowed to enjoy things this much?

"Clearly you could do with some," he said with a small smile that held a note of self-satisfaction. He was probably quite pleased with himself for getting her to react as she had.

"It's just not my style," she attempted to argue again.

But he silently began to work on the other foot, and Lune sighed. It did feel pretty spectacular. And when his hands slid upwards along her legs toward her thighs, the touch was somehow even more pleasurable.

Each time he massaged her, his touch caused zips of pleasure to bolt along her limbs.

So against all her screaming desires, they took their time. Leisurely removing articles of clothing, allowing their hands to roam along newly exposed skin. They rolled further onto the bed, until they were nearly swallowed by the blankets and pillows. It was lush and soft against her bare skin, and only heightened her sense of desire.

His gaze was piercing, focused, and incredibly fierce. She felt as if he'd burn her to ash if he kept staring at her in one spot for too long.

His hands, so well crafted with their wide palms and slender fingers, pressed and caressed in all the right places. Her noises of pleasure were no longer forced or purely for his benefit – she was enjoying every moment.

Once they were both completely bare, only their eyes moved. As if frozen, the two of them simply drank in the sight of the naked body of the other.

Oswald was slender, lean, and rigid. His skin was marked with many various scars, the one most prominent being the one she was naturally drawn to. Though she kept her glance to his leg a quick one, instead focusing on what waited for her below his waist.

As with any human body she came across, she adored ever part of it. Fully erect, he seemed to be the embodiment of a night filled with her favorite bedroom antics.

His gaze now left a chill against her skin, the burning hunger in his eyes had vanished. In its place was analytical, calculating scrutiny.

Lune knew her body also had its fair share of battle scars. Her skin was covered in healed marks, which shone bright against her caramel skin. Though she gave a thought to the scratches on her back, hoping that perhaps they would stick to a base position that night.

And then there was the mark of her magic. The white shock of life that had been taken from her body, which ran from the roots of her hair, down through her face, arcing through her collar bone and breasts to swirl around her navel. The more she took of others, the less she had of herself. The cycle would end her one day, but it was a future she escaped by living fast and diving into the arms of sadistic and satisfying humans.

She had never been one to feel self conscious about her body, but with Oswald unmoving and unblinking before her, even with the both of them completely nude, she wondered what she was supposed to feel.

Then, startling her, he reached over and rested his hands against the mark. One hand above her breast, another on her stomach.

"Is this because of what you are?" he asked, his voice in a deep whisper.

"A magic eater? Yeah. Comes with the territory. You're always giving up something in place of taking something."

"What if you're given power freely?"

She scoffed. Feeling the sexual tension in her dwindling, she impatiently moved his hands to cup her breasts, gripping them tightly.

"No one ever has, and I _really _don't want to think about this right now. Can we get back to the sex? That part has been wonderfully exhilarating so far."

His cheeks turned the faintest pink. It was rewarding to see. His body moved forward as if he couldn't stop himself, to push her down into the bed. She laughed, pleased that she was able to get the ball rolling once again.

Twining her arms around Oswald's neck, Lune brought him in for a kiss even as his body twitched and bucked against her. His mouth responded with passion and aggression. His tongue wove a dance with hers, their teeth clashing more than once.

He broke away to nuzzle against her neck. Thinking he was being sweet, she was rewarded with a sudden pain as he bit her.

"I've wanted to do that for days now," he said against her ear. "And I'd very much like to do it again."

"By all means, don't stop now." She wove her fingers into his hair, feeling him shiver as her nails scraped his scalp. "There's plenty more of me to nibble on."

He groaned and proceeded to wriggle down her body, nipping at her collar bone, her nipples, and then her thighs.

"Don't tempt me with a good time down there and not deliver," she warned, impudently parting her legs.

Expecting him to shy away or come back up, she was startled when he forcefully held her legs apart. Her heart hammered against her chest; was he really going to go all in their first time?

The answer was yes. Her head fell back, her body thrumming with rapture. His breath was hot against her, his tongue exploratory, and unabashedly so. Then he slipped a finger, just one, inside of her, and she became fervently desperate for more. Every part of her inner thighs and mound were thoroughly ravished by Oswald's mouth and hands as he attacked her in clumsy determination.

Her cries bounced against the ceiling and crashed back against her own ears. She sounded so out of character to herself, losing hold on her passion in such a way. But it was endearing the way he licked with his entire tongue, and was so forceful with his fingers.

But selfishly she wanted more.

With a tug on his hair, she brought his face up from between her legs, keeping him trapped in her hands.

He looked positively intoxicated. Once again her original plans were tossed out the window.

An energetic re-positioning had him flat on his back, making startled noises of protest. Lune ignored them, curling luxuriously between his legs to drape her hair across his lap. A teasing curtain between them, it allowed her a moment to collect her thoughts.

His tongue had certainly sent her mind spinning in many directions.

But now it was her turn, and she wanted to prove she wasn't going to be outdone.

Her hand settled more firmly around his shaft as she placed a few small kisses on his head. With her first few touches, he didn't make a single sound, but his body tensed.

Then she gave him a long, exploratory lick, and he let out a startled gasp. It made her insides tingle with glee.

Beginning in earnest, she applied all her desire, her pent up sexual frustration, all of her wanting him, into making him feel what she felt.

And it worked. His breathing became staggered, and a hand suddenly descended onto her head to pull the hair away from her face. Looking up at him, his cock fully down her throat, she felt entirely in control and loved it. He was propped on one elbow, which she noticed shook slightly. All of his features were crying out in pleasure, and she had only just begun.

"I-I must insist you stop," he said in a voice that barely registered on a whisper scale. "Otherwise..."

Lune chuckled, which vibrated against him and made him squeak out a tiny moan.

With an over the top _pop,_ she released him from the confines of her mouth. "Otherwise we won't get to the really good stuff, right?"

"You do have a way with words, don't you?" he said with a short laugh.

She gave him a smile and moved forward. "You know I don't."

He fell into her kisses immediately as she sprawled over him, her hands pushing him flat to the bed, his finding their way along her bare backside. Feeling him strain against her, now fully naked, made her ache to finish things.

"Tell me what you want," she said, her voice thick even to her own ears. And even though a small part of her was still terrified he'd back out, Lune was certain she knew exactly what Oswald would want next.

* * *

**Hi folks. Huge thank you if you're reading this. I know last chapter I said this would be _the _chapter, but I wanted to post what I had so that no one would think I had forgotten about this story. With everything happening in the world right now, writing for pleasure has been near impossible up until this point. Hopefully there will be some normalcy to follow. ****I hope everyone has been safe, happy, and healthy. And,**** bright side, even though I haven't been writing, I've been coming up with even more ideas for this universe, and other stories as well. Thank you again, and if you're still around feel free to let me know!**

**~CosmicWitchFace**


End file.
